


Relativity

by LoveThemWinchesters



Category: Labyrinth (1986), Supernatural
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Animal Transformation, Fae!Sam, Fantasy, First Time, M/M, Non-Wincest, Romance, Top!Sam, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveThemWinchesters/pseuds/LoveThemWinchesters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester has been a hunter for as long as he can remember. His ultimate goal in life: to save as many innocents as possible. One night he rescues, of all things, an owl. Little does he know, his life is about to change forever. Dean is 27. A/U (This is NOT a Wincest story - Sam & Dean are not related.) -- You don't have to have watched Labyrinth for this fic to make sense.</p><p>WARNING: Explicit M/M scenes -- do not read if you don't like or are uncomfortable with this content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own either Supernatural or Labyrinth. Supernatural is the property of Kripke and CW. Labyrinth is the property of Jim Henson & Lucas Film (I did borrow a few lines from Labyrinth to keep the characters true, not much but some.)

     

**rel-a-tiv-i-ty**

_n._

**1.** The quality or state of being relative.

 **2.** A state of dependence in which the existence or significance of one entity is solely dependent on that of another.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 ~^~^~^~^~^~

Bobby opened his eyes. Damn. He had fallen asleep at his desk again, something he’d been making too much of a habit of doing lately. Something had woken him up, but he didn’t quite know what it was. He had been in the middle of researching something. What was it? He pushed his glasses up to his forehead and rubbed at his eyes with thumb and forefinger, and then glanced down at the book in front of him. Oh, it was some ancient symbol Garth had called and asked him about. He hadn’t been having much luck finding anything on it either.

Bobby looked toward the front of the house when a familiar squeak of a car door opening and closing disturbed the quiet of the evening. That must have been what woke him up. He sighed in relief. Dean was back. Bobby hadn’t seen the man in close to three weeks. Hell, he hadn’t heard from him in nearly two. He was never sure how the Winchester kept going like he did, but the hunter wasn’t the type of person to sit still.

Everyone in the hunter community respected the man. Dean had probably killed more creatures of the night in the last twelve months than most did in more than twice that. He sure was his father’s son. There were times, though, when Bobby worried about him. Dean hunted alone. He took risks others wouldn’t. And he enjoyed his drink. But these days, the man could, more often than not, drink upwards of a whole bottle of whiskey and not show any signs of being incapacitated. If anything, it made him even more dangerous.

Bobby loved Dean like a son. He had practically raised the man since his mother died when he was just the tender age of four, his father having run off on a mission of vengeance against the demon who killed her. That’s why Bobby worried about Dean when he didn’t hear from him for several days or more. Too many times did he not hear from a hunter only to find out later that their heart had been torn out, or they had fallen in some other horrid manner.

John Winchester, Dean’s father, had been gone for just over a year and the young man hadn’t been the same since. Sure, the two butted heads regularly, but there was something underneath that had kept them hunting together, that was, until that same son of a bitch demon killed John right in front of Dean one night early last spring. When most things in the world were taking their first breath, John Winchester was breathing his last.

The door opened and Dean walked in, dropping two duffels to the floor. One went with a soft thud, the other, a clang of metal upon metal. He was dressed in his typical worn blue jeans (the pair he had on were sporting a hole in the left knee), t-shirt, and work boots, all of which were far from clean. A flannel overshirt was thrown over his shoulder; his face had smudges of dirt on it. “Hey, Bobby. Long time, no see,” Dean said with a tired smile. His normally bright green eyes were weary. The weeks on the road had obviously worn him out.

Bobby got up from behind his desk and crossed the room. He frowned at Dean. “Don’t you ever go that long without calling me,” he growled. Then he cracked a smile at Dean’s flustered expression and slapped him on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you, boy. I was worried sick. Come on in. I’ll throw some food together for you.” Bobby leaned down and picked up the weapons duffel to carry it into the house. Dean followed him.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I was out in the middle of the friggin’ woods for the last two weeks hunting some damn Indian spirit bear. I had no cell signal, and even if there was one, after a day my phone was dead. As a matter of fact, I still need to charge it; that’s why I didn’t call you on the way.

“Oh, and I had to leave pretty quick. Locals don’t take too kindly to strangers diggin’ up their ancient Indian burial grounds either,” he said with a chuckle. Dean stopped by the foot of the stairs and looked at Bobby. “You mind if I head up and shower first?”

“Go right on ahead. That’ll give me time to get something cooked up for you.” Bobby handed Dean the second duffel. “I’ll see you when you come down.”

Dean trudged up the stairs, heading toward the room he stayed in when he was at Bobby’s. As far as Bobby was concerned, it was Dean’s room. He’d earned it.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean came downstairs after less than a half hour. He felt better for having had a nice, hot shower. He hated to admit it, but it had been over two weeks since his last one. After he salt-and-burned the Indian, Dean left and drove straight to Bobby’s, non-stop. It was nearly a ten-hour drive from the northeast corner of Minnesota. Add a couple of gas and food stops along the way and Dean had been on the road for almost twelve hours straight.

He stepped into the kitchen and could smell fresh coffee brewing. Dean inhaled and smiled when he saw a cup sitting on the table for him. He slid into the chair and picked it up, taking a nice, long sip. “No matter how shitty your coffee tastes, Bobby, it’s always good to come back to it.”

Bobby was standing over by the stove, stirring something in a pot. “Well, thanks for the thanks. It’s good to know I’m so loved and appreciated,” he deadpanned. “You want your soup in a bowl or in your lap? I can do either. One of them is currently more preferable.” Bobby grinned at Dean over his shoulder. He turned back to the stove and switched the burner off.

“So you mind if I stick around for a few days?” Dean sat back and waited patiently as the old hunter got a bowl out and ladled some soup into it for him.

Bobby set the dish on the table in front of Dean and took a seat across from the man. “I can’t believe after all this time you still feel you gotta ask that. You know damn well you’re welcome here any time and for as long as you need.”

Dean stirred the soup and looked at it. It was something with a beef broth. Bobby knew he preferred that over chicken. He smiled at the thought. “It never hurt to have some manners. I know I don’t have too many, but you’re one of the few I care to show them to.” He lifted the spoon to his lips and blew on the still steaming broth, and then ate it. Oh, it felt good going down. Dean had had nothing but donuts and chips all day, and before that, out in the woods he only had protein bars and water. He was starved.

“You want me to throw a sandwich together for you?” Bobby could see that look in Dean’s eyes. He’d seen it before and knew the man hadn’t eaten properly in days.

Dean was sifting through the bowl with his spoon to find the chunks of potatoes and meat. In the middle of lifting another bite to his mouth he said, “I’ll take two if you got it.”

“Sure thing, Dean. I’ve got plenty of soup, too, if you want more.” Bobby stood up and went about getting the sandwich fixings. He’d make sure to pile them high. Dean was a man who liked his food, and to be without it for so long, it wasn’t fun. Bobby had been there when he was younger, putting the hunt ahead of your own well-being. It’s what hunters did.

~^~^~^~^~^~

It was growing late and Dean looked up from the ancient book on demons he held when he heard Bobby close the dusty old tome he had been leafing through for the past couple of hours. They hadn’t said much to one another since Dean finished eating. The two men knew each other well enough that they could sit in comfortable silence for any length of time.

“Well, it’s past my bedtime. I’m heading in. You gonna be okay for the night?” Bobby took his glasses off and placed them on his desk. He stood up and stretched.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’ll head up in a while.” In his free time, Dean was still searching for info on the demon that killed his mother and father. One day he’d find the thing and end it. So far, years of research with his father and more than a year of his own hadn’t yielded anything, but Dean knew the answer was out there somewhere.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean was asleep. He had been for a few hours. It felt good to be in a warm, comfortable bed after sleeping on the cold, harsh ground of the Minnesota woods for so many days on end. Suddenly, something slammed up against the window and he was jolted from his sleep. “What the fuck?” He looked up at the window instantly. There was a crack in it. His brow furrowed and he got up to see what the hell had just happened.

The roof to the porch was just below the window. In the soft glow of the full moon, Dean could see a bird. It was still alive, but it looked injured, probably more than a little stunned, too. “Aw, shit,” Dean mumbled. He couldn’t just leave the thing out there.

Dean unlatched the window and straddled the sill. He was only in his boxers, but who was going to see him at this time of night? Testing his footing, Dean carefully climbed out onto the roof.

It wasn’t just any old bird; it was a big, white barn owl. It was starting to come around, but from the looks of it, it had a broken wing, for its right wing stood out at an odd angle. And there was a little bit of blood, too. “Well, you’re lucky you didn’t break your damn neck, instead, flying into the window like that,” Dean said half to the bird, half to himself. He had always had a soft spot for animals, especially if they were injured.

The owl looked up at him. It didn’t seem to be afraid, or maybe it was just knocked senseless and it didn’t remember to be scared.

Dean squatted down next to the creature and reached a hand out to it to see how it would react. It just closed its eyes and allowed him to touch it. “You shouldn’t be so trusting of others, you know. It could get you killed someday. Trust me.”

The hunter eyed the curved talons. He should have brought a blanket out with him. They looked razor-sharp and the idea of having those things digging into him wasn’t at all appealing. “You gonna be nice to me?” Dean reached under the bird’s breast and carefully placed his other hand over its back to pick it up. It was a little awkward, but he was thinking about the talons. “I’m gonna get you inside and we’ll see what we can do to fix you up.”

Climbing through the window with a large barn owl was not as simple as it seemed. Between the slant of the roof and trying not to injure the bird further – oh, and not to mention Dean wasn’t exactly small – it took the man the better part of two or three minutes to figure it out and get back into his room.

Once back inside, Dean set the bird down on his bed. Through everything, the owl remained silent. It was almost as if it could understand Dean wasn’t going to hurt him.

Dean quickly moved across the room and flipped the light switch on. He blinked his eyes, trying to adjust to the brightness of the lights.

The owl sat and stared at him. It blinked. Its eyes had an eerie human-like quality to them. They flashed hazel in the light.

Dean bit his bottom lip. Yeah, he had good intentions, but what the hell was he going to do now? He knew nothing about fixing a broken wing. Then the first aid kit came to mind. He went over to his duffel and rummaged through it until he pulled out the small box.

“That had to have hurt, flying into the window like that. You okay? I mean, aside from the fucked up wing and all…” Dean tilted his head and looked at the owl. Most wild animals would be freaking out by now, but this one? Nope. He just sat there. “Hmph. Well, let’s see what I got in here that might be able to help you.” Dean dumped the box out on the bed beside the owl and pulled out the gauze and tape. He looked around the room for something he could use as a splint.

~^~^~^~^~^~

It wasn’t pretty, but twenty minutes later, the owl was as good as it was going to get. Upon further inspection, Dean found out the owl had entry and exit wounds on its wing. It looked like it had been shot. That was probably the reason the bird decided to use the window as a dart board. The wounds weren’t big enough to have to stitch, so Dean cleaned them the best he could before bandaging the bird up. He stood back and crossed his arms in triumph when he was done. “Well, that’s not so bad. You feeling better yet?”

Dean had always felt like there was something missing in his life. He would never admit it to anyone, but he always wished he had had a younger sibling to hang out with, take care of. The need to care for something, or rather someone, was innate. Maybe that’s why he enjoyed the hunt so much. It was helping people, even if it went unnoticed.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at the owl. It finally made a sound, a soft hoot. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” Dean chuckled. “Well, I hate to say this, but no matter how friendly you are, you’re not sleeping in my bed. Hang tight. Let me see what I can find.”

Dean got up and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. He went all the way downstairs to the basement and dug around until he found a small wooden crate. Yep, that’ll work nicely, he thought as he turned it upside down and tapped the dust out of it.

Less than a minute later, Dean was back upstairs. He pulled an old sheet from the closet and stuffed it in the bottom of the crate. Setting it down on the floor, Dean turned to the owl. It tilted its head and blinked at him. “Bedtime…for you and me, both, my fine-feathered friend.” Gingerly, Dean picked the bird up and placed it in the crate. It settled down and closed its eyes. The hunter watched it, raised a brow, and shook his head. He’d never seen a bird stay so calm. It was just too weird.

~^~^~^~^~^~

The next morning Dean awoke to the sound of scuffling from the floor. A couple of timid hoots followed. He smiled. God, this bird had him smiling more in the last few hours than Dean figured he smiled in the last month.

Dean sat up and turned, hanging his legs over the side of the bed. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and reached up to card his fingers through his hair, knowing it was probably sticking up in all different directions.

“Hoot.”

“Shouldn’t you still be sleeping? I thought owls slept during the day.” Dean looked at the owl; its greenish-brown eyes stared up at him. Blink.

Dean got up and yanked his duffel from the floor, throwing it on the bed. He unzipped it and rifled through its contents until he found a clean shirt, socks and jeans. Five minutes later, he was dressed.

Bending over, Dean lifted the crate from the floor. “Come on, I might as well bring you down to meet Bobby. He’s a bit crotchety, but he grows on you.”

~^~^~^~^~^~

Bobby looked up when he heard Dean thumping down the stairs in socked feet. He was just finishing up on making a pile of pancakes. “You hungry-” He dropped what he was saying when Dean stepped into the room, with… “What the hell is that?”

“What’s it look like?”

“What are you doing with a damn bird?” Bobby smelled something burning and turned back to the last flapjack in the pan, scooping it out quickly before it became inedible. He brought the serving dish over to the table just as Dean was placing the wooden crate on the floor. He could see the bandage over the bird’s wing. “You playing vet now?”

“The thing flew into my window last night, busted up its wing. But that was only after someone shot it. Probably some damn kids with a pellet gun or something. Anyway, I couldn’t just leave it out there.” Dean pulled three pancakes from the top of the pile and began to lather them in butter. After, he poured a generous amount of syrup on them and began to eat. “By the way, you’re gonna need a new window.”

“Aw, hell.” Bobby eyed the owl as he walked by it on the way to the coffee maker. He poured two cups of coffee, fixing his with cream and sugar and leaving the other black for Dean. He brought them over to the table and sat down. Reaching over, Bobby stabbed his fork into the stack of pancakes and brought two of them over to his plate. “So what’re you planning on doing with him?”

“Hoot.” Both men looked down at the bird.

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll keep him while I’m here, and then I’ll drop him off at the vet or something. He seems to be okay except for the wing.”

“Hoot.”

Bobby lifted an eyebrow, glanced down at the owl, and then back up to Dean. “Is he hungry…or does he need his diaper changed?” The hint of a smile showed on his face.

“Shut the fuck up.” Dean started laughing as he stuffed another forkful of pancakes in his mouth. “You got any raw meat? Hamburger or something?” Dean asked, mouthful of food.

“Yeah, I suppose I can scrounge something up… _Mommy_.”

Dean almost choked on his pancakes and reached over to take a big gulp of coffee. “If you even insinuate that I’m gonna start having tea parties, I _will_ shoot you.” The young hunter tried to keep a neutral expression as he said this. He stared hard at Bobby and tried to swallow the laugh welling up. It didn’t work. Both men started laughing again.

“Hoot.”

Bobby watched Dean. The young man’s eyes were shining for the first time in God knew how long. The laugh was real, not faked. All because of a goddamn bird. Well, if that’s what it took.

 

 

 

 

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean helped Bobby clean up the kitchen. When they were done, Bobby pulled some raw hamburger from the fridge and gave it to Dean. “Here you go, take what you need. He’s gonna need something if he’s planning on gettin’ any better.”

“Thanks. Let’s just hope he doesn’t take off one of my fingers.” Dean eyed the owl’s sharp, hooked beak.

“I’d suggest keeping your damn hand out of there then. Just drop it in. He’ll be fine.” Bobby was putting the last of the dishes away. “I need to run into town this morning. I’ve got some things to do. You gonna stay and birdsit?”

“Yeah, I’ll stick around. I’ve have to go through my things…do some cleaning, see what supplies I’m low on, that kind of shit. Take your time.” Dean sat down at the table and opened the package of meat. He pulled a small piece off and cautiously held it out to the owl. “Don’t bite,” he said.

“Jesus, Dean. It's not a dog.” Bobby watched as Dean’s hand neared the bird.

The owl lifted its head and gently took the piece of meat from Dean’s fingers. It tilted its head back and swallowed it whole. “Hoot.”

“Would you look at that,” Bobby said in awe. “You'd almost think he was someone’s pet. No wild owl would act like that.”

“Or maybe he just likes me.” Dean smirked as he fed another piece to the bird.

“At least someone likes you,” Bobby joked as he headed out of the kitchen. “I’ll be back sometime this afternoon. If you get hungry, there’s stuff in the fridge. Just make sure the bird doesn’t crap all over my house.”

Dean smiled. He looked down at the owl. “See, I told you he’s cranky, but he’s good.”

“Hoot.”

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean had practically every gun he owned spread out on the coffee table before him. They all needed a good and thorough cleaning, especially the shotguns and his Colt. He was happy to find he wasn’t as low on supplies as he had thought. Tonight he would take the time to make up a few dozen salt rounds. Tomorrow he could run out and buy some more rock salt and the miscellaneous ammo he needed.

“Hoot.”

The owl had slept for the better part of the morning. It didn’t surprise Dean; he knew they were nocturnal creatures. “Hey, look who’s awake. You want outta that box for a while?” Dean set the revolver down that he was piecing back together and reached down to the bird. He lifted it out of the crate, but before putting it down on the floor, he brought it up to his lap. It didn’t weigh much, maybe a couple of pounds. Once again, it didn’t struggle. It only sat there and spun its head to look at Dean. Blink.

Dean was drawn into the bird’s gaze. There was just something about it that seemed so…human. He’d never seen a barn owl up close; so really, it could just be the way they looked.

“Hoot.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel.” Dean smoothed a gentle hand down over the animal’s cream-colored feathers. It closed its eyes. “How’s your wing?” He studied the bandage. It seemed to be holding up well enough.

“Hoot.”

“That good, huh?” Dean made to pick the owl up to set it on the floor, but he felt the tight grip of talons in his thigh. “Ouch. Don’t squeeze so hard, will ya.” He was starting to feel like damn Harry Potter. He had his own owl for a pet. The pinch subsided a little, but not completely. “Well, I guess we can hang out for a while.” Dean smiled and reached down to run his fingers through the bird’s feathers again.

“Hoot.”

“Yeah, yeah. You got your way. No need to rub it in.” Dean leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean was startled awake when Bobby dropped a heavy bag on the floor next to him. “Aw, now, would you look at that. I leave you two alone for a few hours and you’re already gettin’ cozy with each other.”

Dean blinked his eyes open. He didn’t realize he had fallen asleep. There was a miniature furnace next to his thigh and he looked down. The owl was nestled into his side sound asleep. “I tried to put him down, but he wouldn’t let go of my leg. It’s the weirdest freakin’ thing.”

“Maybe he knows you’re a good person.” Bobby picked his bag up and carried it off to some other part of the house.

“It’s a good thing I won’t be around long enough for him to learn differently then,” Dean murmured to himself.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean was finally able to get himself detached from his new best friend. After dinner, he fed the owl again, and then he and Bobby headed down to the panic room to start putting a few salt rounds together. He was planning on heading back out on the road within the next forty-eight hours. Three days was plenty enough time to rest and recoup. Any more than that, he’d start scratching at the walls.

When he got ready for bed that night, Dean was almost self-conscious with the way the owl just sat and stared at him. Blink. Tomorrow he’d call the local vet to see if they could take the bird off his hands. Bobby certainly wasn’t going to take care of it and Dean couldn’t take the thing on the road with him. It was strange though, he was going to miss the quiet and watchful company.

~^~^~^~^~^~

A cool breeze passed over Dean. He pulled the blankets up over his shoulders to try to ward it off. The sound of a distant car stirred him from his sleep. He frowned, and then rolled over. The window was open. What the hell?

He got up to close it and that was when he noticed the crate was empty. The owl was gone, but the bandages remained. Okay… Dean knew the owl couldn’t have just gotten up, opened the window, and let himself out. That just didn’t happen. He went back and looked out the window. There was no owl out there on the roof.

Dean yanked his sweatpants on and quickly left the room. He ran down the stairs to the kitchen where Bobby was sitting at the table reading the morning paper. “What’s the hurry? And where’s your boyfriend?”

“You mean you haven’t seen him?”

“Who? The bird?” Bobby folded the paper and set it down on the table. “Nope. Why?”

“You’re not gonna believe this. Hell, I don’t. I think he let himself out somehow. I woke up and the window was open…and he was gone. Nothing but bandages were in the crate.”

“Now that’s odd.” Bobby took his hat off, scratched at his head, and put it back on. “Are you thinking he was something more than just an ordinary owl?”

Dean went to the coffee pot and poured himself a mugful of the hot, black liquid. He took a sip before speaking. “I don’t know, Bobby. It’s just weird.” What was even weirder was that Dean actually missed the bird.

“You’re just damn lucky you didn’t wake up with its claws in your throat.”

Dean swallowed. The old hunter was right.

~^~^~^~^~^~

The sun set; night came and went. The morning found Dean packing up the Impala. “I’m heading down to Missouri. People are acting a little strange down there, doing things, and then not remembering what they’ve done. Sounds like demon activity. I’ll call you when I get in. I’m guessing I should be there around six-thirty or so.”

Bobby handed Dean a brown paper bag after the young man closed the trunk. “There’s a couple of sandwiches in there for lunch, and some other things, too.”

“Thanks, Bobby.” Dean started to back away. “So, yeah, I’ll call you tonight. I’ll probably be back in a couple of weeks. That’s unless something comes up.”

“You be safe out there, son. Watch your ass.”

“You know I will.” Dean opened the driver’s side door and got in. A minute later, the Impala roared to life and rolled down the driveway.

Neither man saw the big barn owl sitting on the corner of Bobby’s roof. It looked on with sad eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean was gone for just shy of two weeks. After the case in Missouri, which was indeed a demon who thought it would be fun to torture a few humans for a while (it was back in hell now), Dean made his way over to Texas. A vengeful spirit had been plaguing a family with small children. That ghost was now put to rest. All in all, the two jobs weren’t too bad. Dean got a little banged around on each, but he was fine. Any time he made it out alive, he considered himself “fine”.

He got back to Bobby’s late. Using his key to let himself in, Dean went right up to bed. That was when the strange dreams began to occur…

_Dean sighed and tilted his head back, granting the faceless person more access to his neck. Soft lips kissed their way up the expanse of skin, and then teeth tugged gently at the lobe of his ear._

_He rocked up, trying to find friction for his aching cock. Finally, a hand grasped it and slid up and down, squeezing; a thumb traced through the moisture gathering there. Dean moaned._

_Turning his head to find the questing mouth, Dean accepted the hot, probing tongue into his own. It darted in and tangled with his as he opened his mouth wider to grant further access._

_Suddenly, he felt a finger circling his hole. Dean gasped into the kiss as it pressed deeply into him. Oh, god. After the initial burn and stretch, Dean rocked down onto it, physically pleading for more. His fingers dug into the stranger’s hard and muscular back as another digit was pushed up into him._

_Dean pressed his forehead down into the crook of the man’s neck and breathed. Never had he done this. Never had he even considered letting a man take him like this, but fuck, it felt so good. He’d never been so hard and needy in his life._

_At the crook of a finger, Dean saw stars. A soft whisper of a moan escaped from between his kiss-swollen lips as his body tensed up. The coil of pleasure that had been building up inside tore through him and he came. When Dean opened his eyes, he saw warm hazel looking down at him._

Dean jolted up in his bed, sweat beading up on his forehead. His cock was painfully hard. How he hadn’t come in his sleep from that dream was beyond him. He got out of bed quickly and went to take a shower. Who could blame him for having to take care of this particular need? And that dream, well… Wow.

~^~^~^~^~^~

“How was the drive in?” Bobby asked from his desk when Dean finally came downstairs.

“Long. Quiet.” Dean was still thinking about the dream.

Bobby looked up at him. “You okay? You seem a little off.”

Dean reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck absently. “Yeah, I’m good. Just a weird dream is all. Still waking up, too.” He looked into the kitchen. “You got any coffee left?” Dean had been able to smell it from upstairs.

“Help yourself.” Bobby went back to looking at another old book from his collection. “How long you sticking around this time?”

Dean was in the kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee when he answered. “Um, I got another thing going on about an hour west of here. I was gonna leave this afternoon. Doesn’t seem like much; just an in-and-out case. I should be done in a couple of days and I’ll swing back through here. I have some laundry I gotta do, maybe give the car a tune-up. She hasn’t had one in a while.”

“Whatcha got going on this time?”

Dean came back in to the room and leaned up against the doorframe. He sipped at his mug of coffee. “I’m not sure yet. Just some weird shit going on that I wanna check out…a couple of deaths that seem up our alley.” He stood there for a while and just enjoyed the hot beverage in his hand, and then a thought occurred to him. “You ever see that owl again?”

Bobby looked up at Dean then. He shook his head. “No. But if it knows what’s good for it, it won’t show up on my doorstep again. I’m bound to just shoot the thing.”

Dean gave a half-smile and took another sip of his coffee.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Three days later, Dean stood at the edge of a small hole he had dug. The “problem” had been a cursed ring. Someone had found it at an estate sale and, come to find out, whoever wore it tended to go a little nutty. That battiness led the person wearing it to go on a killing spree. Dean wasn’t really sure how to destroy the piece of jewelry. He hammered it down so no one could wear it again and he salt-and-burned it. When a puff of filthy green smoke poured out of it, Dean figured the curse was gone. He kicked dirt over the hole and stomped on it. Hopefully that was enough.

He got back to Bobby’s early in the afternoon and pulled the car around back. There was a small bay there that Bobby had always called Dean’s. Before he started any work on the car, he wanted to let her cool down for a while, maybe grab a beer and hear what, if anything, Bobby might have going on. It shouldn’t be much. Only a few days had gone by.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean rolled out from under the car. He wiped his hands on his pants and stood up. Bending down, he flipped the lid to the cooler up and cracked a beer open. He took a nice, long swig from it and wiped his brow with the back of his hand.

Evening was starting to settle in, but the temps hadn’t cooled off. Last week, they had a few cool days. Now, all of a sudden, there was a heat wave rolling through. Dean figured it was still somewhere around eighty degrees out. That was July for you.

“Hoot.”

Dean jumped. He stepped outside and looked around, up on the eaves of the building, in the one or two trees that were nearby. He didn’t see anything. Did he just imagine the sound? It had been nearly three weeks since the owl made its escape; the chances of it coming around again were pretty slim.

He finished off the can of beer and set it down on the workbench. There were still a few quarts of oil to put in the car and Dean wanted to get things wrapped up so he could grab a meal before he hit the sack for the night.

~^~^~^~^~^~

_Dean was on his stomach when he felt a warm body press down on him. Feather-light kisses crisscrossed his back. Hands roamed up and down his sides, kneading the flesh of his ass. He groaned at the touch. It was all too teasing and he ground his erection into the bed._

_He felt the hands spread him and suddenly the hot heat of a mouth was there. Dean jumped at the sensation, and then relaxed. A groan caught in his throat and he pushed back a little against the probing tongue. A moment later it was gone, only to be replaced by a finger. The hunter was familiar with the feeling now and relaxed as it entered his tight hole._

_Dean twisted his head on the pillow to see if he could get a glimpse of the stranger, but no matter how much he stretched and craned his neck, he couldn’t see the man. He could certainly feel him though, especially when another finger was pressed up into him._

_“Oh, god. Would you just fuck me already!” Dean couldn’t take it anymore as he squirmed on the bed. He was so close._

_“Shhh…” It was the only sound Dean heard from the man._

_And then he was flipped over and dragged to the edge of the bed. Before Dean could see a face, the man had his head bent down over him, taking his swollen flesh into his mouth. Dean gasped and threw his head back into the pillow. “Shit…fuck…ohhh” Yeah, it felt good._

_Dean peered down and saw dark hair hiding the man from him, but right now what the man looked like wasn’t such a big deal, because, yeah, he was gonna come…_

_Lust-blown hazel eyes looked up at him as Dean closed his eyes and let himself go._

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean woke up. The first thing he felt was the hot slick of cum in his briefs. “Oh, shit,” he muttered. Twenty-seven years old and he just had a wet dream. And really, what was it with these dreams? Twice now. And not while on the road either, only at Bobby’s.

He got up and grabbed fresh underwear and some pants from his bag and went to go wash off. Something was going on and Dean had a good idea he knew what it was.

Forty-five minutes later, Bobby poked his head around the door. “Jesus, Dean. What on God’s green earth are you looking for?”

Dean’s room was ripped apart…the mattress was tipped up, the drawers were all yanked out from the bureau, the closet door was wide open and all of its contents were on the floor. It looked like a bomb went off.

“Hex bags, Bobby. Something’s going on here and I think it’s a witch. They pull shit like this.”

“Like what?” Bobby continued to look around at the mess. “Like making you lose your mind or something?”

“Remember the other day I told you I had a weird dream?”

The older hunter looked at Dean. “Yeah…”

“Well, I had another just like it last night. Two now. Both of them here. I’m fine everywhere else, but not here. Something’s up.” Dean was currently pulling stuff out of a chest in the corner of the room.

“And what exactly are you dreaming about, may I ask?”

Dean stopped what he was doing. He looked up at the window and could see the sun shining brightly outside. It was going to be another hot one. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not say.”

“Is the bird in them?”

Lifting a brow, Dean turned to Bobby. “No. No damn bird. They’re just… Look, you really don’t wanna know, alright. They’re a little personal if you catch my drift.”

Bobby’s eyes widened for a second. “Oh.” That was all he said. He backed up into the hallway. “Well, let me know if you find anything. I’ll, uh, just be downstairs.” He turned and left.

Dean chuckled. He wanted to find the cause of his recent dreams, but to be honest, he wasn’t in a big rush to stop them. They seemed so…real? And they were _good_. Dean was as straight as an arrow when it came to dating and the idea of being with a man…well, that was just not who he was. Not that he found anything wrong with it. Whatever made people happy, you know. But the man in his dreams…

Another half hour of searching turned up nothing. Dean finally gave up and spent the next two hours putting everything away. As he did, he gave everything a second look to make sure he hadn’t missed anything when he was pulling it all out.

By the time he was done, Dean needed food. Maybe Bobby could find him a book on dreams and he could start researching to see what kinds of creepy things could control dreams.

“Find what you were looking for?” Bobby asked. He was folding laundry at the kitchen table.

“Nope.” Dean went to the fridge and pulled out some ham and cheese. A sandwich would do for now. As he was taking a couple of slices of bread out of the bag, he asked Bobby, “You got any books on dreams? You know, ones that might list the types of things that could make you dream something?”

Bobby was putting the last of his clean clothes in the basket. “I have books on just about everything. Give me a few minutes. I’ll see what I can find.”

“Thanks, Bobby.” Dean squirted some mustard on his bread and started layering meat and cheese on the sandwich.

A little while later, Bobby came back from the study and dropped a book in front of Dean. “Here. You might find something in there. It’s got all sorts of stuff from witches and curses to strange magic and talismans. It’ll give you something to do while you’re sitting around today. My neighbor asked if I could go over and take a look at her A/C unit. It keeps freezing up. As soon as I’m done wrapping up here, I’m gonna run over and see what I can do for her.”

Dean’s mouth was full of sandwich when he thanked Bobby and told him he’d see him later. When the man left, he opened the cover of the book and began reading.

When Dean was done eating, he moved over to the couch where it was more comfortable. So far, there were a lot of interesting things in the book, but nothing that would help him. He was only a quarter of the way into it, so he still had some ways to go. At some point he noticed Bobby came home, but Dean was so immersed in the book that he didn’t look up to say hello.

Dean must have dozed off because he woke up to Bobby shaking his shoulder. Dean felt the book being taken out of his hands.

“Come on, Dean. Dinner’s ready. You’ve been reading that book all day. Time to give it a rest.” Bobby moved back into the kitchen.

Dean sat up and rubbed his hands over his face. He looked at his watch. It was after seven in the evening. “Was I really reading for that long?”

“You’ve been sleeping for the better part of three hours, but before that? Yeah. I just figured I’d leave you be. You’ve always been good at the research stuff. If there’s something in there, you’ll find it.” Bobby opened the oven and pulled out a casserole. “Now get your ass in here and set the table. That’s your job.”

Dean quirked a smile. “Yes, sir.” He got up and went to the cabinet to pull a couple of plates out. He didn’t think about it, but his nap had been restful and dreamless.

~^~^~^~^~^~

It was late and Dean sat on the edge of the bed. He was torn on the idea of going to sleep. Would he have another dream tonight? Part of him was looking forward to the caresses and kisses, but part of him knew it was all wrong. Something was happening; he just had to figure out what.

He groaned and gave in, knowing at some point he had to go to sleep, so it might as well be now.

_“Dean…” The stranger spoke tonight. It was a soothing voice, full of lust._

_The man was sitting behind Dean on the bed and Dean was being held in front of him, his back pressed against the man’s chest. The stranger’s legs were spread wide and Dean was relaxed between them. The stranger was kissing his shoulders and laving along his neck, sucking, marking. Dean closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the feeling._

_“I want you to pleasure me tonight. Can you do that for me?”_

_Dean’s eyes opened instantly at the request. Could he do that? Suck another man off? Finger another man? Sure, it felt good when it happened to him, but he had never thought of actually having to return the favor._

_The more he thought about it, the more Dean reminded himself this was just a dream. What better way to experiment? So far everything else here was good._

_“Yeah, I think I can do that. But first, will you let me see you?” Dean went to sit up and turn, but he was held in place with a strong arm._

_“Not yet,” was the whispered response. “Soon.”_

_“Okay. Well, if you want me to pleasure you, you’re gonna have to let me get up.” The arm around Dean let go. He shifted down to the edge of the bed. When he turned around, the man lay there like a Greek god. Dean couldn’t see his face, for the stranger had his arm draped over it. Whatever. It didn’t matter, not right now._

_Dean looked down at the man’s red and swollen cock. He licked his lips. If there was such thing as male perfection from Dean’s point of view, this was it. He got down on his knees between the man’s legs and started with gentle touches. Dean knew how he liked to be touched, so he would use that as a starting point._

_Trailing his tongue along the man’s inner thigh, Dean worked his way up to the hot juncture between the stranger’s legs. The hot and musky scent made Dean’s own cock twitch. He tentatively touched, experimenting to see what the man might like. Dean caressed the man’s balls and watched as his rigid member twitched over his stomach. Dean smiled. Yeah, he could do this._

_Dean moved forward and licked the ridge of the man’s hardened flesh, tasting. It wasn’t bad. The man’s taste was slightly bitter and salty, and something more. Dean tested a little more and moved to let his tongue drag from root to tip. The stranger moaned. When he reached the tip, Dean parted his lips and took the man’s cock into his mouth and sucked. It was different than he expected it would be. Dean continued to suck and bob his head up and down, caressing with his tongue._

_He took the man’s balls in his hand again and massaged them as he pleasured the stranger. Every now and then, Dean would completely pull away and would tease the stranger with light touches of his tongue. He smiled when the faceless one moaned at the loss._

_When Dean once again surrounded the man with his mouth, he felt fingers in his hair. Their grip tightened as the man’s flesh began to twitch. He was going to come soon. Dean pulled back a little. He knew if he didn’t give himself room, he’d more than likely gag and he didn’t want to go there, not the first time. He didn’t want to look like a fool._

_No sooner had those thoughts gone through Dean’s mind, than there was an explosion in his mouth. Thick cum coated his throat and Dean swallowed it down. He sucked until there was no more to be gotten. Holy shit. Did he just do that?_

_Suddenly, Dean felt the fingers in his hair pulling him upward and the stranger began to plunder his mouth greedily. Dean let the man take what he wanted and he gave back in turn, sharing the man’s flavor between the two of them._

Dean opened his eyes. He stared at the still dark ceiling above him. It was some time in the middle of the night. Dean lay there, thinking about the dream he had just woken up from. He wet his lips at the memory of it. Next time, he would make sure the stranger showed him his face.

Then he caught himself. Dean was already accepting and looking forward to the next time. Was he crazy? If anything, the only reason he should be wanting to see the man’s face was so he could find out what he was up against and take the individual down, because there was no way he could be good, not getting into people’s heads the way he was.

“Hoot.”

Dean was up and out of bed before the end of the bird call. He looked out the window. There was a figure standing in the darkness of the salvage yard below; whoever it was, he was looking up at Dean from the blanket of shadows. The hunter narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better look at the man, but it was just too dark. He unlocked the window and opened it. The person, or thing, hadn’t moved. Dean knew if he ran downstairs and went for the door, whoever this was would be long gone.

Climbing out onto the roof, Dean moved closer to the edge. He was only about nine feet off the ground. He could probably make the jump if he had to.

“Be careful. I wouldn’t want to you to hurt yourself on my account,” the stranger’s voice echoed through the quiet yard.

“Who are you?” Dean couldn’t think of anything better to ask as he moved to closer to the ledge.

“I am no one and I am everyone,” the man answered cryptically.

Dean’s eyes were adjusting to the darkness. The man was dressed in tight-fitting blue jeans, a light-colored shirt, and a dark, velvet-like jacket that ended below his waist. His hair was a bit on the long side and he was tall, tall and muscular. His eyes caught in the moonlight. Dean frowned when he started to recognize the man. It was the faceless stranger from his dreams. He may not have seen the face, but everything else… Dean was sure it was him.

“You’re him, aren’t you?”

The man on the ground held a hand out in front of him and a bubble-like orb appeared out of nowhere. It floated up to Dean and the hunter watched as it came up in front of him and hovered there. He blinked his eyes at what he saw. It was replaying the dream he had just had. The orb zoomed in on the stranger and the arm that that rested over the face moved. For the first time Dean saw the man. He was stunning. And those hazel eyes…

That was when it clicked. The owl. The stranger. They were one and the same. The orb popped like the bubble it resembled and Dean snapped his gaze down to the ground. No one was there. The man was gone.

~^~^~^~^~^~

The sun rose as Dean sat on the front porch and witnessed the beauty of it. It wasn’t often he was up early enough to see the sky change from dark blue, to pink and orange, to day. He hadn’t wanted to go back to sleep after the events that had occurred overnight. Now he knew, without a doubt, that something was going on. And he wasn’t happy about being molested in his sleep. Dean considered the man over the last few hours. He came to the conclusion that he definitely had to be a witch. And witches were only human, right? They could be killed with a simple bullet.

But whoever he was, did he deserve to die? The man had caused no harm to anyone that Dean knew of. Even as an owl, he had been gentle. The hunter blew out a frustrated breath and stood up. He had just turned around to go inside when the door opened.

“Oh, hey, Bobby.”

“You been out here all night?” Bobby eyed Dean. Something was up. “What happened?” he asked as he stepped aside, allowing Dean to come back inside.

“I saw the owl again last night,” Dean said as he walked over to the couch and sat down. “And he’s not an owl. I was right. He’s a damn witch or something.”

Bobby leaned up against his desk and Dean gave him a brief summary of what had happened during the night, once again leaving the details of the dream out.

“Well, it sounds like he’s taken a liking to you. What are you planning on doing about it?”

Dean sat forward and rested his forearms on his knees. “I’m gonna go back to sleep.”

“Look, Dean, I’m sure you’re tired, but…” he trailed off, catching on to what Dean had meant. “You sure that’s safe?”

“He’s always there. Maybe I can find something out.” Dean stood to go back upstairs, but before he left the room, he looked at Bobby. “Give me two hours then come wake me. I can’t say I know what’s going to happen now that we’ve met while I’m awake…at least when he wasn’t a bird.”

The old hunter looked at his watch, and then back up to Dean. He nodded. “Okay. Two hours.”

Dean took off and ran up the steps. His only concern right now was whether or not he could actually get back to sleep with the adrenaline that was coursing through his body.


	3. Chapter 3

Thick, velvet curtains billowed in the warm breeze coming through the windows of Sam’s spacious bedroom. The man paced the room as he thought about what had happened. His first true contact with Dean hadn’t gone bad, but it was far from good. It wasn’t what he wanted, but he knew what he wanted was just short of a miracle. He thought the man would take to him better after what they had shared in the dreams, but that wasn’t so. The hunter in Dean was keeping the man from giving Sam a chance. He saw the look in Dean’s eyes last night.

It had felt like fate had intervened the night Sam had gotten shot and collided with the hunter’s window. (And it hadn’t been kids as Dean had thought; it was a bunch of drunken men out behind a barn that had done the deed.) But Dean had been right when he said Sam was lucky he didn’t break his neck. The shot and broken wing/arm had hurt plenty enough. Even with his magic, it took time to heal properly. But the man who took him in had all but won Sam’s heart...and even that came eventually. Under that tough and rugged exterior, Dean had proven to have a gentle hand and a kind heart, so much so that Sam had stayed around to spend extra time with him. Sam had started feeling a little too content with Dean and his attentions and left before it became too much for him to bear.

Days had gone by and Sam’s heart longed for his savior. He returned and watched the house, but Dean was gone. Just as he was about to give up hope of ever seeing the man again, he came back. That was when Sam decided he needed to take things a bit further. He needed to _touch_ , not as a bird, but as a person. Sam, the Goblin King, took a step into Dean’s dreams and didn’t look back.

Sam stopped pacing and looked out the nearest window. He chewed on a knuckle as he gazed at the Labyrinth that lay below; it was dark and ominous. The maze protected his city from unwanted trouble. Sure, Sam could stop most that would try to make it to his castle (he couldn’t fathom why anyone would ever want to come here), but he didn’t want to be bothered.

Sam had never wanted to be King. It was like a curse. Who wanted to be in control of a bunch of stupid, obnoxious goblins? Even now he could hear the boisterous bunch crashing and banging on the other side of the door. He sighed resignedly as his eyes looked toward the horizon. Maybe he wasn’t ever meant to be happy.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean lay down and closed his eyes, willing sleep to come to him. He had two hours. It wasn’t much time, but this was a “trial” run as far as the hunter was concerned. Dean just wanted to see if he could make contact. He’d like nothing better than to find out who this man was.

_Dean opened his eyes. Was it asking too much to just fall asleep? Sitting up, he ran a hand through his sand-colored hair. Checking the time, Dean saw he’d wasted more than half the time he was supposed to be sleeping just trying to fall asleep. Dammit._

_He gave up and got out of bed. The early afternoon sun was shining through the curtains and Dean walked over to the window, pulling them back. His eyes widened at what he saw. It certainly wasn’t Singer Salvage out there. What the hell?_

_It was another…world? Several miles away, Dean could see a city with some kind of stone tower reaching up from the middle…a castle maybe? There was no order to the buildings around the tower; the whole place looked near chaotic. He could see dark shapes milling about in the streets. Surrounding the city, for as far as the eye could see, was a labyrinth. It certainly didn’t look like a place he’d want to visit. Why was he seeing this?_

_“It’s my home,” a whisper of a voice suddenly said from behind Dean._

_The hunter spun around at the sound. There before him, stood the man from last night._

_“I’m not proud of it, you know. If I had a choice, I would leave.” The stranger tentatively stepped closer to Dean. His expression was almost sad in a way._

_Dean glanced back out the window, then over at the man again. “Where exactly do you live?” he questioned._

_“The city that you see out there, it’s called the Goblin City.” Sam stepped closer to Dean. “Why have you come to me? I felt your presence in my mind. You were looking for me.” He looked down at the hunter with piercing hazel eyes. The hunter was over six feet tall, but he still didn’t quite meet up with Sam’s 6’4” stature._

_Dean found himself lost in the man’s gaze. He blinked and backed up a step. This wasn’t going to be like the other dreams. He came here for a reason. “I need you to tell me who you are…what you are. Obviously, you’re not human.”_

_“And you’re a hunter. I know why you want to know more about me. You’ll never be able to get to me if I don’t want you to. You’re no match for one of my kind.” Sam smiled teasingly, deep dimples appearing as he did. He lifted his hand and an orb materialized out of thin air. He started a form of contact juggling, rolling it back and forth over his hands while watching Dean. “I am more powerful than you could guess. But know this…I am not here to hurt you. I could have done so already if I had wanted to.” Sam tossed the orb into the air and sent it floating over to Dean who was still several feet away. “Remember, I have been with you at your most vulnerable.”_

_Dean watched the magical sphere as it approached him. It replayed another of his recent dreams with the man and he could see the lust sweeping over his own features as the man fingered him open. Feeling his cock twitch just slightly, Dean closed his eyes at the memory floating before him. When he composed himself and looked at the man again, he asked, “And why this?” He gestured to the orb and the scene held within._

_Sam continued to smile. “I thought you might like it. You did as far as I could tell. Since you helped me,” he lifted his right arm, reminding Dean of his earlier injury, “I wanted to help you. You are lonely. I can see that.” Sam was lonely, too, but he wouldn’t admit it to Dean. “Did you not enjoy it?” His brow furrowed, almost worriedly, as he asked the question._

_The hunter never liked anyone trying to say they knew what or who he was, certainly not someone like this. Dean swatted at the orb, popping it, and looked at the man in front of him, fire in his eyes. “Don’t try to tell me what I am. You don’t know me,” he growled. “Nobody knows anything about me, but me.”_

_Dean hadn’t gone into this dream with any intentions other than exploratory, but the sheer cockiness of the stranger… How dare he try to tell Dean what he was (even if it was true)? He moved forward into the man’s space and looked up at him. “Go back to your city,” Dean gestured back toward the window, “and don’t come back. Leave me alone or I’ll have no choice but to hunt you down. Things like you don’t belong in my world. And I will find you if I need to. You can be sure of that.”_

_Sam’s face darkened at the threat and he clenched his jaw, frowning. “If that’s how you feel…then I will go.”_

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean opened his eyes…again. He quickly got out of bed and looked through the curtains, letting out a breath when he saw the familiar mountains of metal in the shape of cars outside. He ran a hand over his face and stood there for a minute.

The dream didn’t give him anything to really go on. Dean still didn’t know who the stranger was, only that he was from _somewhere_ else. But he said he would go. Dean would find out tonight when he went back to sleep if the man would keep his word.

Dean turned and left the room. He’d have to let Bobby know how the dream went.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Sam raged. Yeah, he held himself together when Dean threatened him. The rejection had hurt him more than he thought it could. If the hunter wanted nothing more to do with him, then he would pursue no longer. Sam would accept being alone. It wasn’t as if the whole idea of it was new. From the beginning, he knew there wasn’t much of a chance. Humans didn’t _go_ with one of his kind. They never did.

He yanked the double doors to his room open and walked out into the chaos. “Hogwart, get me something to drink.”

“Uh, yes, sir, Your Majesty.” A short, wrinkled little dwarf dressed in brown trousers and a shirt and vest ran off to do his master’s bidding. A small leather satchel filled with trinkets jingled on his hip as he went. “And it’s Hoggle,” he mumbled before he made it through the door.

Sam looked up at the man’s words and narrowed his eyes. “You know, Hoggle, the Bog of Eternal Stench isn’t that far away. We could take a little walk. Don’t test me this day.”

“Sure thing, Your Majesty. I didn’t mean nothing by it, Your Majesty.” Hoggle picked up his step and ran from the room.

Sam took a seat at his throne, throwing a leg up over the side. He looked over the miscellany of goblins beating each other, drinking, singing drunkenly, and doing a variety of other things that annoyed the crap out of him. Sam rolled his eyes and knocked his head into the back of his chair a couple of times.

Maybe later he’d go find something to torment. After all, Sam would have to keep himself occupied somehow now that he knew for certain that Dean no longer wanted anything to do with him.

~^~^~^~^~^~

The Impala was packed. Dean didn’t dream the last few nights that he’d been at Bobby’s. Nothing. Not even a walking-down-the-hallway-naked dream. Nada. Maybe he actually accomplished something. Normally, telling a creature, demon, witch, or whatever to go away didn’t work. Dean knew the stranger wasn’t one of the above. Obviously, he worked differently.

Dean gave Bobby a hug and a hard pat on the back. They weren’t going to see each other for a while this time. The young hunter needed to get away, clear his head. Every now and then it was something that couldn’t be avoided. Dean would immerse himself in the hunt.

Closing the car door with a squeak, Dean put the key in the ignition and started the engine. The purr of Baby’s motor soothed him more than most things could. Putting the car in gear, he drove down the driveway, watching Bobby grow smaller in the rearview mirror.

There was no owl watching this time.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Before the first week out on the road was over, Dean found a hunt in Michigan. The ghost of a murdered man on a path of vengeance was wreaking havoc in a prison. It was never easy taking on a job in a federal building. Dean took his time and got in faking credentials as a psychotherapist…suit, glasses, and all.

A couple of faked sessions in gave Dean the information he needed from a few of the inmates. Not long after, Dean was crawling through the tight-fitting ductwork until he found the body stashed at the far end in a closed-off section of the building. Dean covered his nose and set to work, salting and burning. (Not a whole lot of fun in such a cramped space.)

Sometime toward the end of the second week, Dean was in Vermont. Another demon was running wild in the meatsuit of an eight year old girl. It hadn’t killed anyone, but was merely “playing” by demon standards.

Dean came out of that one with a twisted ankle and a small concussion. He hated demons. But the good news was that he saved the kid. Sometimes things worked out.

The hunter took a break after Vermont to let his ankle heal. He found a small motel near the southern border of the state and checked in. It had hurt driving. It figured that it was his right ankle. Any long trips were out of the question for a few days.

Once or twice in the last couple of weeks, thoughts of the stranger drifted through Dean’s mind. The hunter in him didn’t want to let it go and the lonely side of Dean missed the dreams. But any time the man came to mind, Dean forced him out. The dreams weren’t right by any means. There was only black or white and the stranger certainly wasn’t on the lighter side of that line.

The second night in Vermont found Dean at a bar. He sat at the counter and ate a basket of fries and a cheeseburger as he nursed a bottle of whiskey and listened to a local band play cover songs from the ‘80s. Not long into his visit, a fairly attractive (and busty) woman started vying for Dean’s attentions. She won out rather easily and he took her back to the motel for the night. The hunter hoped it would help to quell his thoughts of the stranger.

It didn’t work.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Three more weeks went by. Dean traveled across the Midwestern states and took down a few more creatures of the night…another spirit, a werewolf, and a small nest of vampires…in that order.

The nest of vampires set the hunter back a bit. Not only did they get a few good hits in, but Dean dislocated his left shoulder and nearly got his throat torn out. Vamps were never a good thing to hunt solo. Dean knew that, but no one could fill his father’s shoes and he would never again hunt with a partner.

Dean was near enough to Bobby’s house and gave the man a call letting him know to expect him shortly.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Bobby opened the door when he heard the Impala pull up the drive. It was always too quiet when Dean was gone. When the man put the car into park, Bobby went down and met him. That’s when he saw the young hunter looked like he had lost a round with something.

Dean had a bandage on his neck and Bobby could see the wince as he lifted his bag from the trunk. His face was bruised, too.

“Damn, Dean. What’d you get yourself into? Looks like you went up against Ali and lost.” Bobby reached into the trunk before Dean could to retrieve the weapons duffel. “Nah, you don’t look like you should be carrying this. I got it.”

“Thanks” was all Dean said as he turned and went into the house.

Bobby wasn’t offended by Dean’s lack of conversation. The young man _had_ been on the road for more than a month straight; it was bound to wear him down. And yet Dean swore it helped clear his head. There was no arguing with the man.

The old hunter sighed and went into the house. Dean was already gone, leaving the door open behind him. Bobby dropped the heavy bag to the floor by the couch and went to the kitchen to start up a pot of coffee. He could already hear the shower running.

Deciding to leave Dean alone tonight, Bobby went upstairs. There was a nice paperback novel sitting on the nightstand in his room and it was calling his name.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean came downstairs to find the first floor of the house empty. Bobby had taken it upon himself to disappear upstairs apparently. The man knew Dean all too well and he was thankful for it. He just wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone tonight. Some coffee and food, and then bed, that’s what Dean needed tonight.

The hunter went to one of the cabinets in the kitchen and sorted through a few bottles of pills that Bobby had stashed away in the back. Dean’s shoulder was hurting like a bitch and he needed something stronger than ibuprofen. Finally, he found what he was looking for and thumbed off the cap, dumping three blue pills out in his hand. He re-capped the bottle and stuffed it in the back of the cupboard again. Bobby had a thing about Dean getting into the prescription meds, but sometimes there was just no other choice. Dean poured himself a cup of coffee and washed them down with it.

Dean found a plate in the fridge with some leftover meatloaf and rice on it. The hunter smiled knowing Bobby had put it together for him, probably right after he called earlier. He took it out, along with a bottle of ketchup, and put the plate in the microwave. After setting the timer for five minutes, Dean took a seat at the table and sipped his coffee while he waited.

He sat eating his dinner quietly. Even though he was on his third cup of coffee, the pills were starting to kick in and Dean was getting drowsy; he felt himself nodding off. “I guess that’s a wrap for today then,” he mumbled to himself. He collected the plate and mug from the table and placed them in the sink. The hunter hoped Bobby would forgive him for not washing up after himself, but he was just too tired.

He stumbled his way up the stairs to bed. At about this time, Dean was starting to think that maybe he should have only taken two of those pills. Three seemed to be a little much. Oh, well. What’s done is done, he thought to himself as he made his way down the hall, trailing a hand along the wall for support.

Dean fumbled for the door to close it behind him and somehow managed to make it the four steps to the bed before he fell, face-first, onto it. He wasn’t sure what made him think of the man, but thoughts of the stranger from another world briefly entered his mind as he fell into a deep sleep almost instantly.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Sam was wandering a random path in his maze. Every now and then, when he needed some peace, he’d come out here. It wasn’t exactly without its annoyances, but at least it was different than being pent up inside the city for endless days.

He was just walking by a large urn in the garden when he felt something he hadn’t felt in weeks. It was Dean. Sam had long ago pushed any thoughts of the man down. The Goblin King didn’t mean to do it, but he had grown bitter toward the man as time passed. The hunter never even bothered to give him a chance. Dean had automatically shoved him aside like he meant nothing at all.

Sam passed the Wiseman with the bird hat, but the long-necked fowl knew to keep its mouth shut when he saw him. The Wiseman, sitting on his Throne of Knowledge, was gazing off to the horizon deep in thought. His bushy, white eyebrows peeked out from under the hat, nearly covering his eyes; his mustache flowed out from beneath his nose and almost reached his knees, and he was dressed in thick grey robes; his collection box was held tightly in his wrinkled hand. Sam only shook his head as he walked by. There were some curious beings occupying the Labyrinth. Some even surprised Sam after all these years of ruling over the place.

As he continued to walk, Dean filtered into his thoughts. He tried to bar the man from his mind, but couldn’t. Sam sighed as he turned another corner, carefully sidestepping a trap door to the Oubliette. In the blink of an eye, Sam disappeared and an owl shot up into the evening sky. He would see Dean one more time, not in his dreams, but in person.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Sam soon crossed into the earthly realm. It didn’t take long to get there. No more than an hour later he was perched outside Dean’s window, almost exactly where the man had found him that fateful night. With just a thought, the window unlatched and slid open. There was a sudden flap of wings and Sam was through the window, landing on his human (or nearly human) feet a moment later.

Now that Sam was here, he wasn’t sure why he came. Dean was in a deep slumber and he wouldn’t wake him. He knew how the hunter would react, seeing him here. Less than five minutes, that was all it took for Sam’s anger to bloom. He was angry at himself for coming, for not letting go of his interest in this man; he was angry at Dean for his rejection. Sam thought he would be able to overcome the heated emotion, but couldn’t. He took off, back out the window, and flew.

The window slid shut and locked behind his exit.

~^~^~^~^~^~

It was nearing two in the morning when Dean rolled over and opened his eyes. He felt like he had just woken up from death. His limbs were heavy and he was still unbelievably tired. But something had caused him to stir from his sleep. It felt as if someone had been watching him. Reaching up to the lamp beside the bed, Dean turned it on. He looked around the room. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. “Huh,” he muttered before turning the light off, and then pulled the blankets up over himself to go back to sleep.

~^~^~^~^~^~

There was a knock at Dean’s door. He vaguely heard it and put the pillow over his head, trying to ignore it. But it sounded again and he heard the click of the door opening.

“Leave me alone,” Dean mumbled from under the pillow.

“Well, at least I know you’re alive. It’s after eleven, Dean. Were you thinkin’ about getting out of bed some time today?” Bobby, ever the friggin’ early bird.

Dean groaned and turned over onto his back. He lifted his head out from under the pillow and squinted at the old hunter. “Wasn’t planning on it.” Yeah, three pills were definitely too many, but his shoulder felt better.

“I’ve got Danishes.”

That made Dean sit up. “Coffee?”

“Direct from the donut shop, just the way you like it.” Bobby knew from the way Dean had acted last night, he’d need a pick-me-up this morning. Sugar and a cup o’ joe were the way to the man’s heart.

Dean smiled. “You’re awesome, Bobby.” He pulled the blankets off of himself and got up. “Just give me a few.”

“Sure thing. I’ll see you downstairs.” Bobby stepped back out of the room and closed the door.

Dean pulled out some fresh clothes and started getting dressed. As he sat on the edge of the bed to pull his shoes on, something on the floor caught his eye. He leaned over to pick it up. It was a solitary white feather.

He stared at it. Dean vaguely recalled waking in the middle of the night to the feeling of being watched. At the time, he had just pushed it off, contributing the feeling to being over-medicated. Apparently that wasn’t the case. The stranger from the other world _had_ been there. Dean wondered how long he’d been watched.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean got downstairs and he saw Bobby’s bags were packed and sitting near the front door. He rounded the corner into the kitchen. “Hey, you going somewhere?” Dean pointed over his shoulder at the bags with his thumb.

“No. Actually, I like packing things up just so I can unpack them later, genius.” Bobby was over by the counter putting a lunch together.

“Well, okay, if that’s what you like to do.” Dean opened the lid to the pastry box and selected a strawberry-filled Danish from the assortment.

Bobby stopped what he was doing and turned to Dean. “You’re lucky I like you so much.” He went back to what he was doing, but continued to talk. “Rufus called. You know how he is, the cantankerous old bastard. He’s got something going on and asked me to help him out. He wouldn’t give me any details, just kept saying I gotta see it for myself.”

Dean was stuffing the last of the pastry into his mouth. “How long you going for?” he asked as he chewed.

“Hopefully, no more than a week. He’s in Kentucky. It’s gonna be a long ride, but I haven’t been on the road for a while, so I guess I’m due.” Bobby folded the flap over on the brown paper bag in his hand. “You wouldn’t happen to want to come, would you?” There was a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Whoa, out there with Rufus? Absolutely not. He’s your friend, not mine. You can keep him company.” Dean was still thinking about the feather in his room. “I’m just gonna stick around and do some more research. Maybe heal up a bit before I head back out. I should be here when you get back.”

“Alright. Well, I guess I’ll get going then. The sooner I get there, the sooner I can leave.” Bobby crossed the kitchen, but stopped before leaving the room. “If you do decide to go anywhere, give me a call and let me know.”

“Yeah, sure, Bobby. Don’t have too much fun while you’re out,” Dean teased before taking another sip of coffee.

Bobby rolled his eyes. “I’ll try not to.” With that, he turned and left the room.

Dean heard the front door open and close a few moments later. He reached into the box in front of him and pulled another Danish out. God, he loved these things.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean did one productive thing all day. He washed and detailed Baby. Right now, he was standing there just staring at her. His broad, muscular back glistened under the bright rays of the sun as he wiped sweat from his forehead with a rag. It was late summer now, but the heat wasn’t showing any signs of subsiding. Dean reached down into the cooler and pulled out a bottle of beer. Before opening it, he rubbed the chilled glass across his brow and sighed. Yeah, he was going to go in and shower and spend the rest of the day in the air conditioned house. More than likely, he’d put his nose into the books, see if he could find any reference to this Goblin City.

~^~^~^~^~^~

“Yahtzee!” Dean yelled out loud in the quiet house. He was leafing through the hundredth book of the evening and he _finally_ found a reference to what he was looking for. Although what he found described it as only being a myth.

There were no specifics on how to get there, but as Dean read on, he learned a bit about the dangers of the Labyrinth, and then there was the Goblin King, Sam. A rough sketch of the man accompanied the words on the page. If Dean stretched his imagination, just a little, he could almost say Sam was the man from his dreams. There was no way though. It couldn’t be the same person. The book he was looking through was ancient. The legend, according to the book, was even more ancient.

He continued to read. It was theorized that Sam was of a race of Fey, not a goblin as one would be led to believe. Dean frowned as he skimmed the words. If he was Fey, then that really could be him in the picture. He stared down at the drawing of the King again.

The Goblin King was described as being someone to fear. He was both powerful and mesmerizing at the same time. Dean could agree with the mesmerizing part. The powerful part? Well, the hunter would reserve judgment.

After a while, Dean bookmarked the page and closed the heavy volume. He rubbed his eyes and looked over at the clock hanging on the wall. Almost six hours had passed since he began going through Bobby’s books. He knew more than before, but even that amounted to so little.

Now he knew the Goblin City was in another realm that he had no idea how to get to. He also now assumed Sam was the stranger. Why would the Goblin King waste his time on Dean? Yeah, maybe Dean had helped him with a broken wing (arm?), but why the dreams? Why the visits? It couldn’t be just because the guy thought Dean was lonely as he had stated. A king had better things to do than associate with a person like Dean, especially across the lines of two different worlds.

Well, Dean had had enough for the night. His trusty buck knife would accompany him to bed tonight.

~^~^~^~^~^~

_Dean found himself standing on a small knoll. In front of him, the Labyrinth spread across the lands. It was eerily quiet, almost as if it was waiting for something…or someone._

_“It’s my own creation. It’s meant to keep the city from harm.”_

_Dean looked to his right. The stranger was standing there. He wasn’t looking at Dean, but rather out over the maze below._

_“Sam.” Dean said, not asked._

_The man looked at Dean, lifting his brow in surprise. “So, you know who I am then.” He combed his fingers through his long hair, sweeping his bangs from his face. “I didn’t think there was anything left in your world that had mention of me and these lands.”_

_“Let’s just say it was an old book.” Dean looked up at the man and caught his eye. “I know you came last night.” He reached into his pocket and pulled the feather out. “You lost this.” He let it go and it fell slowly to the ground. “I told you not to come back.”_

_“Then why are you here?” Sam asked. “I didn’t initiate this particular meeting. You did. You came to me. I was done with you. Last night…well, I won’t get into that, but that was going to be last time.” Sam still held a sliver of contempt for the man standing next to him. He turned back to face the Labyrinth, not wanting to look at the hunter._

_“The hell I did! You’re the one with the damn magic up his sleeves. I just want to get a good night’s sleep for once. Somehow you just keep showing up though.” Dean’s voice was getting low. “Just send me back. You say you’re done. If that’s true, make it stop. No more dreams.”_

_Sam slowly turned his sharp, hazel eyes to Dean. He wasn’t sure what it was, but Dean was pressing all the wrong buttons. Sam’s thoughts were in turmoil. Had the man’s rejection affected him so much? Was he becoming spiteful toward Dean because of these intense emotions? The virulent feelings stirring in his depths were dampening his ability to think clearly about this._

_“No” is what came out of Sam’s mouth. He wasn’t planning on it. It just happened._

_Dean’s eyes widened at the answer, and then he frowned; his body became tense. “You son of a bitch,” Dean hissed threateningly._

_“You have thirteen hours in which to solve the Labyrinth. If you can do that, I will send you home. If not, well...” Sam leered at Dean with antipathy. “This is NOT a dream, Dean. Everything here is real. You can get hurt…and you can die. Time is short. You’ll want to get a move on.”_

_Dean opened his mouth to reply, but he blinked and all of a sudden an owl was flying away toward the tower at the center of the vast maze. “Fuck!” Dean stomped on the ground with a booted foot. He had no weapons, just the clothes on his back. Now what the hell was he going to do?_


	4. Chapter 4

Dean looked around at the barren wasteland surrounding him. He was in the Outskirts, an area of land that bordered the Labyrinth. Skeletons of once beautiful trees dotted the landscape and dry grasses poked their straw-like tips up through the thick fog covering the ground at his feet. Dean saw nowhere to go but forward, into the Labyrinth.

“When I find Sam, I’m gonna kill him with my own two hands,” the hunter grumbled. He looked at his watch to find out what time it was, and then trudged off toward the Great Wall. No entrance stood out that he could see, but there had to be one somewhere.

He soon found his answer; the wall had no such opening. Dean had been walking along the border of the Labyrinth for nearly a half hour and found nothing. “Well, if you want me to try this, the least you could do is let me in!” Dean yelled. He rounded another corner and there in front of him was a small dwarf-like being. It was the first living thing Dean had seen since he got here, aside from a few nasty looking bugs. The man was uglier than sin, but maybe he could help. “Hey! Do you know where the friggin’ door to this thing is? I’ve been walking forever.”

The little man looked up at Dean. He appeared to be trying to eradicate some kind of flying pests, for every few steps he took, he would point a spray gun at one of the creatures and push the plunger in, ultimately killing it. “Oh, it’s you.”

Dean glanced at the ground and saw…fairies? But he couldn’t ignore the comment from the dwarf, so he decided to disregard the dainty bodies on the ground and questioned the man. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, nothing really.” The dwarf continued his way down the wall, spraying every so often. He didn’t seem too interested in talking to Dean.

Dean followed the dwarf impatiently. “You know what? I’ll leave you to…,” he watched as the dwarf sprayed another fairy and grimaced, “whatever it is you’re doing if you’ll just tell me where the door is.”

“What door?” the man asked as another fairy fell to the ground.

Dean rolled his eyes and pushed his hands up through his hair in disbelief. Was this whole Labyrinth going to be like this? “The door to the fucking Labyrinth,” he growled.

“Oh, that door. Well… I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? You’re from around here, aren’t you?” Dean leaned up against the wall and breathed deeply, trying to control his growing irritation at the man.

“You just haven’t asked the right question is all.” The dwarf turned to face Dean and put his stubby hands on his hips.

Dean lifted an eyebrow. Awesome. Riddles. He could do this. And he _would_ find Sam, _would_ get to the center. After a minute of thought, he phrased his question differently. “How do I get into the Labyrinth?”

“Ah, there you go. That’s much better. Why, you just go in through the door. It’s right there.” The little man pointed down the wall about ten feet and there was a door that hadn’t been there before. “But do you really want to go in there? Most don’t make it out once they go in.”

“I don’t have much of a choice. I need to get to the castle.” Dean stepped around the man and walked up to the oversized and ornately carved wooden door. A large, brass ring was in the center of it and he pulled on it. The door creaked open, vaguely reminding Dean of the Impala. He glanced back at the small man who was already spraying the fairies again. “Thanks, um…”

The dwarf looked over at Dean. “Hoggle.” He peered around Dean. “So which way are you going to go?” he asked inquisitively.

Dean took a step into the maze and looked at his only two options. One long corridor led either left or right; neither had any significance over the other. He stepped back out and looked at Hoggle. “Do you have a suggestion? They both look like the same thing to me.”

Hoggle chuckled. “You’re not going to get far thinking like that. Anyways, I wouldn’t take either. You’re a damn fool to even think of going in there.”

“Well, if you’re not gonna help, I guess I should get moving then. I don’t have a whole hell of a lot of time.” He turned to leave, heading left. Dean always went left when it came to a left/right situation. It was just something he always did.

“Wait a minute,” Hoggle called out.

Dean stopped and glanced back at the man.

“If you make it to the center, and that’s a BIG if, you’re not gonna get out. No one ever does.”

“You’ve never met me then,” Dean smiled and stalked off. The door slammed shut behind him of its own accord.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean walked…and walked. And yet there were no turnoffs, no doorways. The endless corridor just kept going. If the walls weren’t so smooth and tall, he’d have half a mind to climb one to see where he was. The hunter stopped and looked behind him, feeling like he was being watched. Somehow Dean _knew_ he was. It was more than likely Sam watching him from a distance. He growled and started walking again, stepping over dead branches and fallen stones. Everything here had a glittery sheen over it, giving the place a fantastical quality. Soon Dean picked up the pace and fell into a jog. He had no time for this shit.

After ten minutes of running, Dean still didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. He halted in his steps again. “Aw, come on! Sam, you’re not playing fair here,” he called out. His temper flared and he slammed the sides of his fists into the wall next to him.

“Allo,” a small, squeaky voice with a British accent said from behind him.

Jesus. What the hell was that? Dean spun around and looked for the source of the voice. He didn’t see anyone, but he was sure the lichen-type plants growing out of the crevices in the walls had shied away from his movement.

“I said, allo,” the voice repeated.

Dean’s brow furrowed. There wasn’t anyone there.

“Down here,” it called out.

Glancing down the wall in front of him, Dean saw a blue worm with a friggin’ red scarf wrapped around its neck…and it was looking right at him with large, wide eyes. It was sitting comfortably on a ledge.

“You’re looking a little lost there. Why don’t you take a break and come in to meet the missus,” it said.

Dean had no idea what to say to it. “Uh… thanks for the invite, but I don’t think I’m gonna quite fit in your house.” He eyed the creature curiously. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know the way through the Labyrinth, would you? I’ve been walking for miles,” Dean looked back down the corridor from which he had come, and then back at the worm. “Am I missing something here? Aren’t there any turnoffs, doors…something?”

“Oh, there’s plenty. You’re just not seein’ ‘em.”

“You’re full of it.” Dean took a step toward the creature and squatted down in front of it. He still couldn’t believe he was talking to a damn worm.

“Why don’t you come in for some tea. The missus would love to meet you. She loves company.”

“Sorry, dude. I can’t. I don’t have time. Now, can you tell me where one of these turns, or whatever, is?”

“Oh, sure. There’s one right there behind you as a matter of fact.” The worm gestured with his head to the wall at Dean’s back.

Dean turned and looked at the stone wall. There was no opening. “Okay, I’m gonna feed you to the next bird I see if you keep this useless crap up. There’s nothing there. It’s just more of the same freakin’ wall.”

The worm ignored Dean’s idle threat. “Of course there is. Go on. Try walkin’ through it. Have some faith.”

Dean looked at the wall again. He stepped up to it…and then cautiously walked _through_ it. “Holy shit. You’re right,” he said with a smile. Dean would figure this place out yet.

“Of course I am. Things aren’t always what they seem around here, you know. You have to remember to think outside the box.”

“Which way should I go?” Dean eyed both directions. Again, nothing seemed to point him in the direction of the castle.

“Whichever way you want to go, I suppose,” the worm replied.

“You’re not gonna be overly helpful, are you?” Dean looked at his choices again. “Well, I guess I’ll just go this way.” He turned to go to the left, but stopped when the worm yelled out to him.

“Wait! Don’t go that way. No one ever goes that way.”

“Well, why didn’t you say that when I asked you in the first place?” Dean turned and made his way down the path to the right. “Thanks,” he called out over his shoulder.

The worm sat and watched him go. “If he’d have gone that way, it would have led him straight to the castle.”

~^~^~^~^~^~

The throne room was teeming with goblins. Some were in troupe uniform (helmets and all), others weren’t; some were beating others with clubs (no one seemed the worse for it), while others were kicked back, watching and laughing at the chaos surrounding their king. Some were even sleeping amidst all the noise.

Sam sat and stared at the clock. He could almost block out the bedlam surrounding him, but not quite. Nearly four hours had passed since he set Dean loose to tackle the Labyrinth. During that time, the King’s emotions had settled down some. He felt he may have overdone things just a tad bit, that maybe he’d been a little brash in throwing Dean into the Labyrinth like that. After all, he could understand Dean’s complete and utter dismissal of him.

Years of pent up frustrations had been stirred recently because of the hunter and they just sorta spilled over the top. Sam hadn’t been thinking straight; loneliness and desperation had fueled the fire also. The King shouldn’t have blamed Dean for what was going on. He should have handled things differently, tried harder. Now things were probably so fucked up, Dean would never forgive him, never give him a chance.

Sam sighed. He might be hundreds of years old, but he severely lacked in the emotional department. Who could blame him? He’d never really had anyone except for a bunch of crazy and outrageous goblins to associate with for years. Only a small handful of humans had ever come through the Labyrinth; nobody like Dean though. No one had made Sam feel the things Dean made him feel.

Well, what was done was done he supposed. The King _was_ curious to see how far the hunter would make it. How long would it be before he gave up? He could go to the man on his own, but Sam didn’t feel the time was right yet. Instead, he raised a hand and created an orb; it would be his eyes. He held it before him and watched.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Another hour passed and Dean found himself in a more typical labyrinthine type of maze. There were twists and turns, dead ends, and more hidden doorways. Stone pillars topped with a variety of different finials decorated the place. Every so often, he could even see the castle in the distance. It was still too far away to get overjoyed about it though.

Turn after turn and still Dean wasn’t getting anywhere. Everything looked the same. At one point, he came to a large stone obelisk. Six hands were pointing in different directions, but to where, Dean didn’t have the foggiest clue. “Yeah, you’re helpful,” he mumbled and kept going in his original direction.

Another few turns later, Dean blew out a defeated breath. The corridor he was in looked just like the last one. “Goddammit!” How was he supposed to figure out which turns he’d already taken, which paths he’d already tread?

Then a thought occurred to him. Dean’s eyes fell to the ground in search of a small rock, something he could mark the stone slabs with. He bent down and picked one up. Drawing an arrow on the stone tile under his foot, he turned and ran up a set of steps. He did this for several more turns. For a while it seemed to be helping out.

The sound of stone moving behind him caught Dean’s attention and he stopped. He slowly turned around. Nothing was there. The hunter had a feeling he wasn’t alone in here. The worm was more than likely just the beginning of what he would find. Well, he thought, he couldn’t worry about that right now.

Dean moved on and shortly he came to a dead end. “Whoever came up with these things should be shot,” he mumbled as he turned around to make his way back. He happened to glance down at the last mark he made and it was gone. Dean knew it had been there, too. “What the hell?” Something was erasing his marks. He threw the rock in his hand as hard as he could over the wall. “Sam! So help me, when I find you…,” he yelled out. “You’re not playing fair!”

“Who said anything here was fair?” a voice said from behind Dean and he spun on his heel.

Two doors that hadn’t been there before now stood before him in the side of the wall. In front of each door was a guard. The hunter lifted an eyebrow. They were some of the weirdest damn things he’d ever seen. They looked like a pair of freaky dogs and each had a shield held directly in front of them and their uniforms were accented in either red or blue. And the most bizarre thing of all was each had two heads (one above the shield like normal, and one hanging upside down below the shield) and five hands. With the way their shields were positioned, Dean couldn’t see the anatomy of it all, but he wasn’t really sure he even wanted to.

Dean walked up to the two guards. They seemed harmless enough. “Do either, um, any of you know the way to the castle?” he questioned them.

The bottom head of the blue guard spoke up. “You can always try one of these doors.”

Then the bottom head of the red guard spoke up. “But you have to be careful. One leads to the castle…and the other leads to certain death.”

“And let me guess, none of you knows which door is which.” Dean felt like he was getting the hang of the place.

The four heads looked at each other, then to Dean.

“Um, no. We know which is which. We’re just not allowed to tell you,” the bottom head of the blue guard said.

The top heads of both guards snickered and the bottom heads looked up at them. “Shut up.”

“Make us,” the tops said in unison.

“Hey, hey. Just stop it, alright.” Dean was losing patience. “Do I need to say a magic word or something? Abracadabra, maybe? Or do I have to ask the same question, but in a different way?”

The bottom head of the red guard responded. “Ask them.” He nodded up to the top heads.

Dean looked at the two heads on top. “Well?”

The top head of the red guard looked at Dean, his brow furrowed. “Uh…”

“Well, go on,” the top head of the blue said, looking at the red.

“You’re only allowed to ask one of us a question,” the red guard said.

“Them’s the rules, you know. His Majesty’s,” the top of the blue said.

The bottom heads nodded, both agreeing with an “uh-huh”.

“One of us always tells the truth and one of us always lies,” the top of the blue stated. “That’s another one of the rules. And he’s the liar.” He gestured to the red with a tilt of his head.

“Am not!”

“Are, too!”

Dean rolled his eyes and looked at his watch. Roughly five hours had gone by. “Would you two stop this goddamn shit and just let me ask a question!”

All four heads looked at Dean, and all frowned at him, and then the top of the red guard said, “There’s no need to get like that.”

“Yes, certainly not,” the top of the blue guard agreed, eyes narrowed.

“Sorry. I just don’t have a lot of time,” Dean said apologetically.

Then both top heads said, in unison, “Fine. Go ahead then. Ask your question.”

“Okay.” Dean stood there for a minute and gave his question some thought. He always hated this puzzle as a kid, never seeming to get it right no matter how hard he tried. “Alright, so...” He looked at the red guard and asked, “Would he tell me that your door leads to the castle?”

The red guard pondered the question for a moment. “Um…” The top head looked down behind his shield and conferred with his counterpart for a moment. When his head came back up, he said, “Yeeessss…” It was drawn out and more of a question than anything.

“Okay, then,” Dean said with a smile. “So his door leads to the castle and yours leads to certain death.”

“How do you know?” the red guard asked. “He could be the telling you the truth.”

“That’s the thing. If he was, you wouldn’t be. If you said he’d say yes, then the answer would be no.”

The red guard eyed Dean. “But then I could be telling the truth.”

“But then he’d be the one who was lying and the answer would still be no.”

The red guard looked confused and glanced over at the blue guard. “Is he right about that?”

The blue guard raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I never understood it.”

The four heads started laughing.

“Well, I’ll let you all get back to whatever it is you do. I gotta get going. Nice meeting you.” Dean sidled past the blue guard and pushed the door open.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Sam watched Dean. The hunter was having trouble getting through the stone maze, but little by little, he was making progress. There were still many obstacles for the man to get through. Only the most intelligent and daring ever made it through to the Goblin City. Sam was confident Dean was one of those people. Would he keep his promise to the man when he arrived, send him home?

Lifting a glass of wine to his lips, Sam took a long drink. He’d have to give that some thought. But in the meantime, he had decided he would try to win Dean over again. What did he have to lose? The hunter couldn’t hurt him, not physically anyway. And Sam couldn’t hurt any more emotionally than he already did.

He snapped his fingers just as Dean stepped through the right-side door at the four guards and the orb disappeared with a quiet _pop_. He would go to the man.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean made it two steps through the door before the ground shifted and dropped out from under him. His eyes widened in terror and he screamed as he fell. The words “certain death” flitted through his mind. Shit! He free-fell for about twenty feet before something, or some things, gripped onto his body at different points from shoulders to feet.

“Let go of me!” Dean could barely make out what was going on in the darkness of the chasm. What was holding him looked like…hands?

Five hands came up in front of him and formed a “face”. “Do you really want us to let you go? It’s a long way down.” They dropped Dean another ten feet or so then caught him again.

Dean yelled out until he stopped falling; his heart was pounding in his chest. He glanced down between his legs. It was pitch black and he could see nothing. The hunter looked up and could see the bright, blue sky above through the small opening he had fallen through. Maybe he’d let them hold onto him for a little longer.

“No. No. Hang on a minute. Don’t let go, not yet.” Dean shifted. One of the hands was on his crotch and was anything but comfortable. “Let me guess. You have a riddle for me to solve, too.”

Another grouping of hands appeared to Dean’s side. “Nope. No riddles. We’re Helping Hands. We’re here to help you.”

“Really?’ Dean looked around at the hands now that his eyes were adjusting to the darkness. They were grey and scaly, almost death-like. But they held him tight, and for that he was thankful. Several “faces” now surrounded him.

Four more hands came up and formed a face directly in front of him. “Well, which way do you want to go? Up or down?”

Now that was a question. Dean looked up, longing for the daylight, but something told him down was the way to go.

“Come on already, we don’t have all day,” the hands prodded. “Up or down?”

He swallowed before answering. “Down.”

“He said down,” multiple voices called out all at once. “You’re going to regret that!” they continued. “Going down!”

The hands let go and Dean fell. “Wait!” he yelled. Echoes of laughter surrounded him. The hands no longer slowed his progress as he plummeted to the depths below. He felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Feet upon feet he went. Dean knew it was going to hurt when he hit the ground, if it ever came. Dean screamed as he fell, but no more help came.

Suddenly Dean hit the solid earth and all went black.

~^~^~^~^~^~

_Dean’s head hurt. He must have hit it when he finally crashed down to the ground. He felt a gentle caress along his forehead and down the side of his cheek and jumped up, opening his eyes. It was still dark, darker than before. That was all he noticed before the world started to spin. His movement was too fast and he let himself drop down to his back once more. That was when he noticed he was on something soft. A bed?_

_The “bed” shifted as whoever was there with Dean moved. “Who’s there?” If they had wanted Dean dead, they could have killed him already, so he wasn’t worried about that at the moment._

_“You hit your head pretty hard.” Dean knew that voice, but he couldn’t make the connection immediately. His mind was muddied from a concussion more than likely. And his stomach was unsettled, a typical side-effect from the injury._

_Dean closed his eyes and the soothing touch came back. The fingers drifted down to his lips and ran over them gently. It was a familiar touch and he started to remember. “Sam?”_

_“Shhh…” was the response. “Take it easy. You don’t need to aggravate things more. I won’t hurt you. You’re safe with me.”_

_Yeah, Dean was fairly certain it was Sam, but something in the tone of the King’s voice kept him still. He was mad at Sam, furious even, almost enough to literally want to kill the man…Fey?...whatever he was. But Dean just allowed himself to lay there and enjoy the touch. If he was truthful with himself, he had missed Sam’s touch._

_The bed shifted more as Sam scooted down next to Dean and lay with him. The hunter felt the hem of his shirt being tugged up, and then felt a warm hand slip under it._

_“I’ve missed you, Dean,” a quiet whisper breathed into Dean’s ear._

_Dean didn’t want to voice his thoughts. It would be admitting something he didn’t want to confess to himself._

_“Is this another dream?” Dean questioned Sam. It felt like a dream, but if it was, then why did his head hurt so much?_

_“It’s a little bit of both, reality and dream. You’re still in the Oubliette, but I wanted to see you again.” Sam pushed his luck and leaned in to press his lips to the bottom of Dean’s jaw. When there was no resistance, he continued to feather kisses along the man’s neck and smoothed his hand over Dean’s firm and muscled chest._

_Dean’s body was responding to the touches, more than he thought possible. He might want to kick himself later, but he reached a hand up behind Sam’s head and directed his questing mouth to his own, brushing their lips together._

_As soon as their lips met, heat flared through Dean’s body; his cock hardened almost instantly. He parted his lips to let Sam in. Their tongues met in the middle and Dean opened wider, granting the King access to his mouth. He groaned as Sam claimed him again. Yes, Dean had certainly missed this._

_Was Dean accepting him? Sam’s mind whirled with the thought as he deepened the kiss. He kissed Dean like there was no tomorrow. And maybe there wouldn’t be. Or maybe Dean would come to his senses and they could be together. He was scared to hope._

_Sam rolled over on top of Dean a moment later. He could feel Dean’s hardened flesh through their layers of clothing and Sam ground his aching cock down into Dean’s thigh, finding relief in the friction._

_Dean felt Sam’s need pressing in on his leg. The hunter pulled back from the kiss suddenly. The darkness was like a blindfold; he could see nothing. It was probably better this way. That way he couldn’t see the man’s expression when he said, “I can’t do this. Go.” His heart sank. He was torn between wanting this and knowing it couldn’t be. And Sam…he wasn’t human. The man had left him in this Labyrinth to die. Dean would get out of here. He’d go home and forget all about Sam._

_“But-” Sam started._

_“No. Leave.” Dean pushed at Sam. “Get out of here!” Dean’s face twisted with his internal torment._

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean opened his eyes. He was in the dark on the cold, hard ground…alone. He closed his eyes again and a lone tear dripped down the side of his face.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean lay there for what felt like hours. Sam was gone. The man had left when Dean told him to. What had Dean been thinking, allowing himself to be touched by Sam again? And Dean had enjoyed it.

He slowly sat up. The hunter really had no sense of how long he’d been out. His head felt better, mostly. It was still pitch black, wherever he was.

Dean jumped when he heard shuffling. Someone was in the dark with him. Maybe Sam hadn’t left? “Sam, I told you to go away. I don’t wanna-”

A lantern was lit. Dean squinted at the brightness of it and saw that it wasn’t Sam. “Oh, it’s just you.”

“Yep, just me.” Hoggle was going about the room as if he was looking for something.

“Where are we?” Dean looked around. He remembered Sam had a word for it, but the hell if he remembered what it was. They were in a small cave-like room; bones were scattered about the floor, a water pitcher and bowl sat on the ground next to Dean, empty of anything useful except dust, and thick chains hung from the ceiling in various places.

“This is an Oubliette. They’re all over the Labyrinth. It’s where people are sent to be forgotten. There aren’t any doors, in case you haven’t noticed” was Hoggle’s response.

Dean looked around. Hoggle was right. There was no way out. He glanced up and saw a grate over the opening he gathered he had fallen through. “How about that?”

“And where would you go if you even made it through? It’s locked, by the way. But just sayin’ you got through, there’s hundreds of feet up to the surface and no way to get there. The hands won’t help you either, not anymore.” The dwarf walked across the room to one of the corners. “But today’s your lucky day. I happen to know a way out.”

The hunter watched as Hoggle lifted a panel of wood out of the dirt on the floor and fitted it to the wall. What the dwarf was up to, Dean had no idea. There was nothing but solid rock anywhere as far as Dean could tell.

“You just have to find the door.” The dwarf pulled at the side of the panel and it opened like a door, but instead of a way out, a pile of brooms and buckets fell out onto the floor with a clang and a clatter. Hoggle cursed. “The right door helps as well. Can’t be right the first time every time.” He chuckled as he closed it, and then pulled it open from the opposite side. This time a tunnel appeared when he opened it.

Dean’s eyes widened at the sight, but then he looked at Hoggle. “Why are you helping me? I haven’t done anything for you except act like a total asshole.”

“Well, asshole or not, no one should be stuck in the Oubliette. It’s just not a nice way to go.” Hoggle stepped through the door and looked over his shoulder at Dean. “Are you coming or not? It’s a one-time offer.” He turned and headed out into the passageway, not waiting for an answer.

Dean got up quickly and followed after the dwarf. “It looks like I’m coming,” he mumbled as he eyed the small circumference of the tunnel. It looked like he’d be crawling until they got to wherever they were going.

A little while later, Dean stopped; his knees were killing him. “Hey, you think you can help me get to the city?”

Hoggle halted in his forward progress and spun around to face Dean. The dwarf was able to walk the tunnel, albeit with his head hung low. “No. I can’t do that. This is a shortcut out of the Labyrinth, nothing else.”

“What? There’s no fucking way I’m going back! Not now. I need to go to the city. It’s the only way Sam’s gonna let me go home.”

“Nope. Sorry. That’s not going to happen. I can’t help you there,” Hoggle said without flinching.

“What if I give you something?” Dean eyed the trinket bag on the dwarf’s hip. The hunter had two pieces of jewelry on. His mother’s silver wedding band and the protection amulet his father had given him. The hunter hated to part with either, but if it meant getting home…

His choice made, Dean removed the amulet from his neck. “You like jewelry, right?” He held the charm out in front of Hoggle. “I can give you this.”

Hoggle’s eyes lit up at the shiny, gold amulet dangling before him. “Uh, well. I shouldn’t but…” He quickly snatched the necklace from Dean’s hand and hung it around his neck. The dwarf looked down and patted it with a smile. “Come on. I’ll take you as far as I can.” With nothing more, Hoggle turned and continued to lead Dean through the tunnels.

~^~^~^~^~^~

The Goblin King was once more rejected, denied. He hated the fact that he couldn’t get a good read on Dean. One minute the hunter seemed to give in, and the next, he was tossing Sam out like he didn’t matter.

Well, Dean had another think coming to him. Sam, like Dean, wasn’t one to give up so easily. He would continue to try to woo Dean, but if that didn’t work, at the end of the thirteen hours, Dean would be stuck here for eternity. Sam would have all the time in the world. The man would give in eventually.

Sam had returned to his personal quarters and was gazing out the window. His eyes narrowed in on a particular spot out there in the maze. He knew exactly where Dean was. He knew also that Hoggle was now helping him. Yes, Sam had eyes and ears all over the Labyrinth. He’d have to put a stop to this treachery. Dean couldn’t be allowed to get to the city.

And Sam wasn’t about to let some little piece of crap dwarf screw this up, no matter who he was.

~^~^~^~^~^~

They traversed through one tunnel after another. Dean’s knees felt like they were scraped raw, down to the bone, but he wasn’t complaining. He was just happy Hoggle agreed to take him to the city.

The hunter was about to ask how much farther when Hoggle took a leap and disappeared from sight. Dean crawled up to where the dwarf had jumped and saw that they had made it to a section of the caves where the ceilings were more than high enough to accommodate Dean’s height. The hole they were passing through let out about five feet above the ground. Dean repositioned himself and dropped out, feet first.

Hoggle picked one of the three tunnels that led off the room and started to follow it. “Let’s go. It’s not much farther.”

Dean could see Hoggle seemed a little troubled about something. “Hoggle, man, you okay?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about my business. Just worry about your own.” The dwarf kept walking, saying nothing more on the topic.

A few hundred feet up ahead, Dean saw faces carved into the rock walls. He jumped when one started talking and a loud, booming “DON’T GO ON! GO BACK WHILE YOU STILL CAN!” bellowed from it. Hoggle didn’t seem to pay it any attention, so Dean tried to ignore it as well.

A few feet farther on, another one started up. “THIS IS NOT THE WAY! TAKE HEED AND GO NO FURTHER!” The tunnel echoed as more started up. “BEWARE! BEWARE! SOON IT WILL BE TOO LATE!”

Dean could barely hear Hoggle over the deafening voices. “Don’t mind them. False alarms is all they are. Like the Oubliettes, you find them all over the Labyrinth.” The dwarf kept walking. “Especially when you’re going the right way.”

“You are not,” one of the rockfaces answered.

“Can it, Rocky,” Hoggle told the rock.

“Well, geez. I’m just doing my job, just like you-”

“I said stuff it,” the dwarf said warningly.

The conversation wasn’t going unnoticed by Dean. It was hard for him not to hear what the rock was saying. Was Hoggle deceiving him in some way? Dean didn’t say anything, but he’d have to watch the dwarf closely from here on out.

While the exchange was going on between Hoggle and the rockface, Dean looked down and saw an orb rolling along the tunnel’s floor toward them. He was pretty sure he knew what it was. “Um, Hoggle…”

Hoggle was too busy squaring off with the rock. He didn’t hear Dean.

“Hoggle!” That got the dwarf’s attention.

“What?” Hoggle finally looked at Dean.

“Should we be concerned if Sam’s sending orbs down here?” He eyed the crystal-like sphere as it made its way toward them, and then rolled right by.

Their eyes followed the ball until it stopped at the feet of a blind beggar. Dean lifted his brow. The beggar hadn’t been there just seconds ago. He was sure he would have noticed something like that.

The beggar held a tin cup in his hand and the orb literally hopped right up into it.

Dean watched with curiosity, but Hoggle looked like he was going to need a new pair of pants soon. “Hoggle, what’s wrong with you?”

Hoggle didn’t take his eyes from the beggar. “Um…” He said no more.

The hunter looked from Hoggle to the beggar. Suddenly, the man stood up. He was much taller than they were first led to believe and the rags he was wearing were thrown down to the floor, including a mask.

There, in front of them, stood Sam…and he looked pissed.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Sam paced around them with an air of irritation.

“Your Majesty… What a nice surprise.” Hoggle immediately backed away from the man out of fear. The dwarf’s movements were in contradiction to what he was saying.

Dean wasn’t scared of Sam, no matter how wrathful the man seemed, but he held back and observed the interactions between the two other men.

“Hello, Hedgewart.” Sam stopped and stared down at the dwarf.

Dean couldn’t help but correct him. “It’s Hoggle, Sam.”

Sam’s eyes darted to Dean. There was a fire in them that Dean hadn’t seen before. It was _almost_ enough to make the hunter take a half step back, but not quite.

The King looked back down at Hoggle again. “What exactly are we up to down here? Are you helping Dean? Were you leading him to my castle?”

“Me? No! I’m not helping. Why would I do that? I was doing nothing of the sort. I was just following your orders, Your Majesty. I was only taking him back to the beginning as you requested.”

Dean’s eyes widened at Hoggle’s confession. He _knew_ something was up. “You son of a bitch!”

Now it was Dean who Hoggle was backing away from, but Sam stepped between them before the hunter could say or do anything more and bent low over the dwarf. He reached out and fingered the amulet around Hoggle’s neck.

“And where, may I ask, did you get this?” Sam stared hard into the dwarf’s eyes. “If for one minute you lead me to believe that you are betraying me, I will toss your sorry ass into the Bog of Eternal Stench. You hear me?”

“Oh, absolutely, Your Majesty. I would never do that to you, Your Majesty. Never. Just a little trickery on my part is all.” Hoggle was cowering under Sam’s glare.

Sam stood up and smiled. “Well, now that we have all of that figured out.” He turned and stepped over to Dean, placing a hand on the wall next to the hunter’s head. Getting a little up-close and personal, he leaned into Dean’s space, breathing in the man’s scent. “How are you enjoying my Labyrinth? Is it as you expected?”

Being the defiant one that Dean was, he looked Sam in the eye and said, “So far, I’m not impressed. I’ve been through worse.”

Hoggle slapped a hand against his head and closed his eyes. He couldn’t believe Dean had just said that. The man obviously had no idea what Sam was capable of.

“Is that so? How about I up the stakes then.” Sam turned and a clock appeared in mid-air in front of him. It currently showed the amount of time Dean had left to get to the city. The King lifted his finger and gestured at the clock. The hands spun around the dial, knocking hours off Dean’s time. He now had just over five hours to find it.

Dean growled and cursed under his breath. “Don’t you ever play fair?”

Sam turned back and smiled at Dean. “Fair? Who said this was going to be fair? This is my kingdom. I can do as I please. Maybe my work will finally start to impress you.” He laughed.

Sam went to leave, but before he did, he turned back to Dean. “Oh, before I forget...” He produced an orb out of thin air and threw it down the corridor. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy this.” Suddenly a loud screeching noise could be heard and something started to move toward them. “Have fun my two pets,” Sam said as he vanished.

“Oh, no!” Hoggle yelled and turned to run.

“Wait, Hoggle. What the hell is it?” Dean kept watching the darkness ahead.

“It’s the cleaners! Run!”

Some kind of archaic-looking machine came out of the darkness. It was like a large spinning drill bit with dozens of rotating blades. It took up the whole of the corridor and was coming right for them.

“Holy shit!” Dean turned and ran. He picked up Hoggle on the way by.

Somehow, no matter how fast Dean ran, the cleaners were catching up. But he kept running. Eventually, there was no more tunnel ahead of them. He came to a locked gate and dropped Hoggle down when they got to it. “Goddammit!” Dean lifted the lock and looked at it. On most days, he could pick it, but he didn’t have the tools he needed with which to do so.

“Hoggle, is there any other way out of here?” Dean looked around. A few feet before the gate, there was a door in the wall. He ran to it and tried to open it. “Fuck! Of course it’s locked!” Dean kicked at it repeatedly. Little by little, it was giving way. Finally, with one last hard kick, it broke down. He grabbed Hoggle and threw him through, following quickly after. They had cut it so close that Dean felt the swish of air on his back from the passing machine as he stepped through.

After the cleaners went by, Dean peeked back out from the door and looked at the backside of the machine. Four goblins were maneuvering different gears on it to make it go. Two were riding it like a bicycle to make it go forward and two were turning the front gear to make the drill bit and blades spin. Talk about low-tech.

“You coming or what?” Dean heard Hoggle from somewhere up above. He looked up and the dwarf was halfway up a ladder.

“Yeah, right behind you.”

In the back of Dean’s mind, he wondered why Sam was such an angry person. The man seemed so gentle when they were together. It was something Dean felt he had to figure out before he went home, and home was where he was going, no matter what Sam threw at him.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Hoggle reached the top of the ladder and pushed open a door. Bright light flooded into Dean’s eyes and he blinked them, trying to adjust to the glare.

He followed the dwarf out and saw that they were climbing out of a large urn. The hunter looked around and saw that they were in a hedge maze, like the one from that creepy movie Dean remembered watching as a kid. “Well, what do you know, more maze,” Dean deadpanned as he jumped down from his perch on the edge of the stone container.

“So, what?” he confronted the dwarf once he was down on the ground. “You’ve been leading me along all this time, lying to me? Because if you are-”

Hoggle turned to Dean, cutting him off. “I have not! I only lied to Sam to get him off our backs. It worked, didn’t it?”

“I don’t know. Did it? How the hell do I know if you’re lying to me right now or not?” Dean carded a hand up through his hair, and then he dusted his clothes off. He was dirty from being underground for so long.

“You’re right, you don’t know. But I AM telling you the truth. Sam’s just… I don’t know. He frightens me. But anyway, what real choice do you have? Believe me or not, it doesn’t matter.”

Dean stared at Hoggle for a moment longer, and then turned away. He rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to decide what to do. “Yeah, alright. I guess you’re right. But why does he scare you so much? I haven’t actually seen him do anything but make threats…well, that and the cleaner thing. And even that wasn’t that bad.”

“Then you don’t know him well enough. Those threats about the Bog…you wouldn’t be so brave if you knew what it was. It’s awful. It smells bad.”

“You’re telling me your short, little ass is scared of getting thrown into a swamp? Jesus. That’s all?” Dean stood there with his hands on his hips, waiting for Hoggle’s response.

“No, Dean, you don’t understand. You even step a foot in it, you’ll smell forever. No matter how much you try to wash the stench off, it’ll never leave.”

“Hmph. Okay, I guess I get your point…sorta. I still don’t see how something can smell that bad, but if you say so.”

Hoggle looked around, then back to Dean. “Well, this is where we say goodbye. I’m done with all this.”

“Wait. You’re just gonna leave? I gave you my amulet on the terms that you would take me to the city. Dammit, Hoggle. Grow some balls.”

“I told you I would take you as far as I could…and well, this is it. I can’t go no further.”

“You’re a real piece of work. You know that?” Dean was pissed. “I trusted you when I gave that to you, and you’re pulling this shit?” He rounded on Hoggle. The dwarf backed away from him. “You can’t just get away with stuff like that. It doesn’t work that way, not with me, it doesn’t.” Dean reached out quickly and snagged Hoggle’s pouch from his hip.

“Hey! That’s not fair! Give that back! Those’re my jewels. You have no right!”

“Nothing’s fair, Hoggle.” Dean looked over the hedges and spied the castle. “I’ll be more than happy to give them back once we reach the castle. Doesn’t look like it’s far. How’s about you start leading the way, huh?” Dean lifted a brow, waiting.

“Ohhh! Dammit!” Hoggle stalked off along a path and Dean followed him.

Not five minutes later they came across an old man in robes. His mustache flowed out several feet from under his quite prominent nose and his bushy white eyebrows looked like they were in competition with it. The strangest hat sat atop his head. It was a bird…well, from the neck of a bird and up anyway. And it was alive because it was looking right at Dean.

Dean eyed the bird hat warily as he approached the man. “Um,” Dean couldn’t stop staring at the hat, “I need to get to the castle at the center of the Labyrinth. Can you tell me how to get there?”

“Uh, hum,” the old man cleared his throat. He looked like he had been sleeping. “Ah, you need to get to the castle, huh?”

The bird on the hat bobbed its head. “Well, now. He’s a smart one. How’s that for brainpower?”

“Be quiet, bird,” the Wiseman commanded.

“Aw, rats,” the bird whined.

“Now, uh, hum, you want to get to the castle, eh? Know this. The way forward is sometimes the way back,” the man’s gravelly voice said.

“Geez, would you listen to this absurdity?” the bird squawked.

Hoggle stood next to Dean and sighed loudly. Dean was smiling. He found the pair to be sort of funny. A little comic relief after what he’d been through today was more than welcome.

The Wiseman rolled his eyes up toward his hat. “I said shut up, bird!”

“Alright.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Alright.”

“Alright, sorry.”

“Done now?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Finished?”

The bird looked annoyed. “Yes,” it said resignedly.

The man looked at Dean again. “Now, where was I? It seems like we’re not getting anywhere when, in fact-”

“We are!” the bird finished the sentence.

The Wiseman sighed. “-we are.” Just after those words, a snore followed.

“I think he’s done,” the bird said after a minute.

“Well, crap. I sure learned a lot from that conversation,” Dean said. He looked over at Hoggle who shrugged his shoulders.

“Didn’t we all. Please be sure to leave a contribution,” the bird said as a collection box in the Wiseman’s hand shook.

Dean looked at it. The only thing he had left was his mother’s ring. And that wasn’t going anywhere. Pulling Hoggle’s pouch out, he opened it and started going through it.”

“Don’t you dare,” the dwarf yelled at him.

“Consider it repayment for your deceit.” Dean pulled a very small trinket from the pouch and dropped it into the box, ignoring Hoggle’s groans of protest.

“Thank you! Whoo! Whoo! Thank you very much!” the bird said happily.

“You didn’t have to do that. Really? What did you learn from him? Nothing.” Hoggle turned and stomped off, knowing Dean would more than likely follow.

The bird watched Dean disappear around the corner behind the dwarf. “Well, there goes a couple of suckers.”

~^~^~^~^~^~

Time passed and it found Dean and Hoggle wandering aimlessly through the hedge maze. Dean was starting to come to the conclusion that Hoggle had no more idea about where they were than he did. Dean looked at his watch. He had just shy of four hours left to find the center of the Labyrinth. Where the hell did the time go? Oh, wait. Sam took nearly three hours away. That’s where it went, he thought sarcastically.

They turned another corner deep in the maze and suddenly there was a loud roar. “What the fuck is that now?” Dean ran toward the noise, but he noticed very quickly that Hoggle wasn’t following. He stopped in his tracks and looked back at the dwarf. “Well, come on.”

“No. Nuh-uh..” Hoggle crossed his arms stubbornly.

“Oh, come on. Whatever it is, I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt you. It can’t be any worse than anything I’ve killed over the last, oh, I don’t know, fifteen years or so.”

Hoggle lifted an eyebrow, almost as if he was going to give in, but his expression changed. “Nope. I’m not going and you can’t make me. Like I said before, I’m done.” The dwarf took off running before Dean could stop him.

“Well, isn’t that just great,” he mumbled. The roar echoed out again and Dean, once more, turned and ran toward it. He nearly tripped up on himself when he came into a small courtyard and saw the source of the sound. Quickly, he backed up behind the hedge so he wouldn’t be seen.

Hanging upside down from a large tree was a troll of some sort. He was huge and was covered in long, red, shaggy hair. Two bull horns stuck out of his head and he had two large canine teeth protruding from his lower jaw which could be seen even when his mouth was closed due to a severe underbite.

Running around the poor creature were a half dozen goblins with helmets on and they each carried a staff with an ugly, hairless critter with huge, sharp teeth holding onto the tops of them. The goblins would swing the staffs at the troll, causing the little toothy creatures to bite him. The troll roared out in pain every time the pointy teeth clamped down on him.

Dean wasn’t sure if the troll was good or not, but he was starting to despise goblins. If only he had a weapon…but he had nothing. “Well, I guess I could always throw something at them,” he said out loud to himself. Dean had just started looking around for a rock or two, when the troll started howling. A rock suddenly started rolling on its own and came to within Dean’s reach.

“Yeah, that’s normal,” he said as he picked the rock up and threw it at one goblin. His aim was true and it hit him in the helmet, causing it to spin around so he couldn’t see where he was going. The howling continued and more rocks rolled to Dean’s feet. He kept throwing the rocks, causing more chaos to ensue. The more the goblins couldn’t see, the more they were hitting each other with their staffs. Before he knew it, they had all run off and disappeared into the hedges.

He carefully approached the troll who was still hanging above him. The beast was flailing, trying to break his bonds, but it wasn’t doing any good and Dean jumped out of the way of one of his horns only a second before it impaled him. “Hey, settle down you big hamster. Give me a second to get you down from there. You gonna be nice?”

The troll stopped all movement and looked at Dean. Its eyes were wide and helpless looking. “Ludo need help,” his deep voice cried out pitifully.

“Ludo? That’s your name? Okay, Ludo, I’m Dean. Just hang on. I’ll get you down.” Dean went over to where the rope was tied to the bottom of the tree. He felt bad, knowing that as soon as he untied it, Ludo was going to fall down to the ground hard. “Ludo, brace yourself, buddy. You’re gonna fall.” Dean tugged the rope and it pulled out of his hands almost immediately as gravity took over. With a loud thump, Ludo hit the ground and moaned.

Dean ran over to him and started to untie the bindings from Ludo’s hands and feet. He hoped he wasn’t going to regret this.

“Friend,” Ludo stated and smiled.

“Yes, Ludo, I’m your friend.” Dean studied the creature. It wasn’t much taller than he was, but it was at least four times as big as Dean in girth. The hunter figured most of it was muscle under that shaggy carpet.

“Dean. Dean, friend,” Ludo repeated.

“Yes, we’ve already figured that out.” Yeah, let’s hope he’s smarter than this, Dean thought. “Ludo, listen to me. I have a question for you.”

“Huh? What?” The creature was still trying to stand up straight after hanging upside down for half the day.

“Do you know the way to the castle, the center of the Labyrinth?” Dean kept his fingers crossed that the answer would be “yes”.

Ludo looked at him. It appeared that he was giving thought to the question. “No. Sorry, Dean,” the troll said sadly.

Dean frowned for a brief moment, and then gave a half-smile. “That’s okay, Ludo. No one around here seems to know.” Dean spun around to take in his current surroundings. When he faced Ludo again, he noticed something different behind the troll. “Where’d they come from? Dammit, this place just keeps changing. It’s no wonder no one knows how to get to the center. It’s a whole different puzzle every five minutes.”

Behind Ludo were two doors. Each door was adorned with a knocker. One knocker was an ugly dude with a ring through its ears; the other was another ugly dude with a ring in its mouth. “Now I wonder where these go. Let me guess, one leads to the castle and one leads to certain death. Seems to be the way things are around here.” Dean approached the two doors. “Ludo, what do you think. Ugly number one or ugly number two?”

“Mmmm.” Ludo shook his head, not knowing what to say. “Don’t know.”

Dean continued to look between the two. The one on the left, ugly number one with the ring through its ears spoke up. “It’s very rude to stare!” it said loudly, causing Dean to jump.

“Way to give a guy a heart attack. Christ! I was just trying to decide which of you uglies I was going to go through.”

“What was that?”

Ugly number two, the one with the ring in its mouth, tried to speak up, but it came out as more of a mumble and Dean couldn’t understand a word it said. Taking things on a hunch, he reached up to grasp the ring and pulled. With a _pop_ it came out of the knocker’s mouth. Dean handed the ring to Ludo to hold onto.

The knocker opened his mouth wide and stretched it. “Oh, thank god. That’s been in there forever.”

“You’re welcome. So, what were you trying to say?”

“I said, he’s as deaf as a post. It’s no use trying to talk to him.”

The first knocker spoke up again. “Mumble, mumble, mumble. You’re no fun to talk to. You need to speak up.”

Dean looked from the first knocker to the second. “Does one of these doors lead to the castle?”

“How the heck should we know? We’re just the knockers.”

A lot of help there. Great. “So how do we get through?”

“Why, you knock, you moron. Haven’t you ever used a knocker before?”

“Yeah, well screw you very much.” Dean looked between the two doors. “I want to go through your door.” He was looking at ugly number two again.

“Nope. Can’t do that. I don’t want that thing back in my mouth and I won’t let you put it in.”

Dean went to get the ring back from Ludo, but the troll had it in his mouth, mirroring what the knocker had looked like. Dean smirked. “I’m afraid I need that back, my friend.” The hunter gently took the ring out of the creature’s mouth and turned back to the door.

“I said no. No way. Absolutely not.” Ugly number two clamped his mouth shut tightly.

Ugly number one laughed. “Doesn’t want that thing back in his mouth, huh. Can’t say as I blame him.”

“Well, if that’s how you’re gonna play…” Dean reached up and squeezed the knocker’s nose between his fingers.

The knocker couldn’t breathe. He held out as long as he could before his mouth burst open and Dean quickly pushed the ring back into it.

“There now. You’ll get over it.” He laughed when he could just barely make out the curses being tossed his way from the knocker. “Well, here we go.” Dean reached up and knocked. A moment later, the door swung open to a dark forest beyond.


	6. Chapter 6

Ludo hesitated at the doorway and narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like the Forbidden Forest, not one bit. He had a very bad feeling about it, but Dean was already off and running. If he wanted to stay with the man, he’d have to go in. With a deep, heavy sigh and a final glance behind him, the troll stepped through the door. Once he was completely through, the door slammed closed behind him, causing Ludo to jump.

Dean turned and saw the troll still hovering by the door. “Come on, you big walking carpet. What’re you waiting for? A date? Let’s go.”

“Scared,” Ludo whined.

“Seriously?” Dean smiled and tried to hold back a small laugh. “Dude, you’re probably bigger than most of the shit out here.” The hunter shook his head and walked back to the door. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Dean mumbled as he took Ludo’s hand and pulled him into the forest. “Come on. You’ll be fine.”

After walking for some distance without hindrance, they came to a stop and Dean dropped Ludo’s hand so he could take a look around. “See, what’d I tell you? There’s nothing out here to be afraid of.” Dean didn’t notice when Ludo literally dropped out of sight through a trap door in the forest floor. When the troll didn’t answer him, Dean looked back over his shoulder. “Ludo? Ludo!” The hunter spun and looked around. Nothing…no sign of the big, red hairy beast.

“Dammit!” he yelled. “Hoggle! When I find your ass, _I’m_ going to throw it into the Bog!” Dean was still pissed at the dwarf for running off like he did. Maybe Hoggle didn’t know the Labyrinth like the back of his hand, but at least he would have been able to warn Dean about the hidden dangers…like how a troll could just friggin’ up and disappear.

~^~^~^~^~^~

The dwarf knew he was too close to the Forbidden Forest, but it was the quickest way out of the Labyrinth. Hoggle was running away. That’s what he was doing. He was starting to like Dean as a friend and just couldn’t do what Sam wanted him to do. The man deserved to go home, not get trapped in this hell hole of a place. No one was happy here. Dean had already made it farther than anyone Hoggle had ever seen and the dwarf was glad for it.

So it was unexpected when he heard Dean yell his name. The man was out in the forest somewhere; he had beaten the hedge maze. Hoggle smiled at Dean’s persistence. The dwarf didn’t hear what the hunter was saying specifically, but the tone of his voice didn’t sound very pleased. “Hang on, Dean. I’m on my way,” he mumbled as he turned around and headed toward the dark shadows of the trees.

“Now you wouldn’t be going to help Dean, would you?” The King stood there, looming over the dwarf, waiting for a response.

Hoggle jumped and froze in place. Where did Sam come from? He slowly looked up at the Goblin King. The man’s height had always intimidated Hoggle. “Of course not, Your Majesty. He just, um, got away from me. And now that I know where he is, I was going to go lead him back to the beginning.”

Sam walked over to a large boulder and leaned against it, crossing his arms; the rock had an uncanny resemblance to the Goblin King’s profile. “Are you sure now?” Sam paused for dramatic effect. He knew Hoggle feared him. “No, you wouldn’t lie to me after my warnings, would you?” The King narrowed his eyes and tightened his lips into a fine line. "But you two do seem to be getting fairly dependent upon one another.” He stared at Hoggle, trying to read him. “You actually think he’s your friend, don’t you? Well, guess what, Hogbrain, he isn’t going to be your friend. He’s a human. Humans don’t like our kind. You know that.”

Hoggle stood there and wrung his hands anxiously in front of him. How did Sam do that? Yes, he thought he might actually have a chance of making a friend out of Dean (Lord knew he could use one), but he was having a hard time because he was too afraid of Sam and was making all the wrong decisions. “That’s not what I think, Your Majesty. I’m just trying to-”

“Ah, Hoghead, I’ve just noticed your beloved jewels are missing.” Sam gestured with a nod to Hoggle’s hip.

The dwarf looked down at his empty belt loop. “Oh, why yes, they seem to be. I guess I should go find them.” Hoggle glanced around worriedly at the ground as if they would be there instead of with the hunter where he knew them to be.

“You were always such a terrible actor, Hoggle.” Sam pushed off the rock and stood, towering over the man. “You will go to him, but,” he reached up and plucked an orb out of the air, rolling it over his hand, “give him this for me.” Sam tossed the sphere to Hoggle and when the dwarf caught it, it was a plump, red apple.

“It’s not going to hurt him, is it? I won’t do nothing to Dean that will hurt him. You should just let him go home.” Hoggle’s eyes widened at what he just said.

Sam smiled at Hoggle’s newfound defiance. Dean must’ve been rubbing off on him. “No, Hogwart, it won’t hurt him. It’s just a gift, a treat from me. But why are you so concerned about Dean?” The King chuckled. “Are you willing to sacrifice yourself over a _human_? Now that’s something I’d never expect of you.”

“I am not. I just don’t like hurtin’ nobody. You know that.”

“Well, okay. Go on then…but know this, Hoggle. If Dean ever decides to befriend you, I will make you a prince, Prince of the Land of Stench!” Sam laughed at Hoggle’s expression of terror.

No. Hoggle didn’t want that. He turned and ran, fingers tightening around the apple in his hand. He would do what he had to, even if it meant betraying Dean. Damn.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean was wasting precious minutes searching for the troll. How could something like Ludo just vanish into thin air? “Ludo!”

All of a sudden Dean heard a _tap, tap, tap_ of…drums? He wasn’t quite sure. His eyes snapped to the tree line to his left where he heard the noise. “Holy shit!” Dean almost fell on his ass when a pink and orange bird-like creature, standing on two spindly legs, jumped out of the trees yelling loudly. It had feathery tufts on its head, shoulders, waist, and wrists. And its eyes glowed as if there was a fire burning deep within them.

“Yeah!” it shouted as it ran around as if it were on a major caffeine high.

Another jumped out of some low-lying shrubs. “Ha, ha, ha!” This one was the source of the tapping noise. He was beating two sticks together with a _tap, tap, tap._

And then three more appeared out of nowhere behind the hunter. Dean was surrounded. All of them were swaying and dancing to their own self-made music. They were yelling, hooting, and hollering, and were getting just a little too close for comfort.

“Go take your damn Soul Train somewhere else,” Dean said loudly, but he could hardly hear himself over the din. The creatures were herding Dean against his will, keeping him within their tight circle, he noticed. Every time he tried to step around them, one would get in his face and force him back.

Dean couldn’t help but stare in awe as one of the beasts swept his hand along the ground to light the tips of his fingers on fire, and then started a large bon fire with the flaming digits. It didn’t seem to bother the thing in the least bit.

Their dancing eventually evolved into singing as well. The one he assumed to be the leader of the group kept getting handsy with Dean. The hunter pulled away and tried to step back, but bumped into another creature behind him. That one pushed Dean back into the thick of things. If there was ever a time he could use his gun…

There were currently five of them keeping Dean from going anywhere. He wasn’t scared, just merely annoyed. His time was winding down. This had to be a stall tactic from Sam. Yeah, that’s what it was. Dean sighed as he watched the “chickens-on-‘shrooms” dance occurring around him. Hell, he felt like he was on an acid trip himself.

Dean was about to say he was through with this shit, when one of the creatures poked two of its fingers into its eyes and pulled them out; each eyeball was impaled on its fingertips and they were staring at him. The creature laughed wildly.

“Jesus Christ!” Dean stumbled backward. He had seen some wild shit in his day, but this?

After playing with his eyeballs for a while (including rolling them like a pair of dice and calling “snake-eyes”), the bird-like creature threw them into the air and caught them in his mouth (beak?), swallowing them. When he tilted his head back down to look at Dean, they were in place once more.

Oh yeah, Dean thought, this place was so beyond fucked up. Just wait until he told Bobby about it.

“Hey, you,” Dean heard one of them call out and looked over his shoulder. It yanked its head off and started tossing it around. The bizarre mob proceeded to play a cross between soccer, basketball, and golf with it - the golf club being a leg that another had removed from itself.

After their “sporting event”, the dance morphed into some sick affair where they each detached various legs, arms, and heads from their bodies, and then reassembled them into odd, unrecognizable things with one another’s parts.

“Yeah, okay, guys. I think I’ve seen enough. I got places I need to be. Thanks for the good times.” Dean pushed through the two birds at his side and broke into a run. But the creatures had other things in mind and suddenly two of them jumped out of the trees in front of him.

Another one came up from behind and jumped on Dean’s shoulders. It wrapped its hands around the hunter’s head and pulled hard, trying to yank Dean’s head off.

“Ow, goddammit!” Dean hollered as he pried the hands away and finally threw the creature to the ground. “That fucking hurt,” he said angrily, eyes full of fury.

“Hey, would you look at that! His head don’t come off!”

“Of course it doesn’t, you asshole,” Dean yelled and scowled at the thing as he rubbed his neck.

“How come you got a head like that? That’s not right.”

“Take off his head!” one creature said loudly.

“Yeah, take off his head,” they all said in chorus.

Dean was slowly being surrounded by the pink and orange feathered creatures. There was only one thing he could think of doing. He started pulling their heads off and threw them as far as he could.

“Hey!” one yelled as Dean snatched its head. “You can’t do that! It’s against the rules to throw other people’s heads!”

“Well, I’ve never been known to follow any rules,” Dean said as he reached over and pulled the fifth creature’s head off. “And you should’ve thought about that before you tried pulling my damn head off.” That should slow them down for a while.

Dean ran. He could hear the commotion behind him as the creatures ran around like headless chickens, trying to collect up their heads. It didn’t take long before he heard them pursuing him. “Shit!” Dean picked up the pace.

Not too far down the trail, Dean found himself at a dead end, facing a towering stone wall. When he turned to try to find another way out, all five of the creatures were there. They looked pretty pissed off, too.

“Dean!”

Dean heard his name called from above and looked up. “Hoggle? Where the hell’d you come from?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just take a hold of this.” The end of a rope fell down to Dean from the edge above. He took it and started climbing. The hunter wasn’t sure how he’d fare against the creatures below, but he’d rather not find out. Being outnumbered five-to-one and not being armed wasn’t the best odds.

As Dean reached the top of the wall, the creatures' heads were flying up to harass him, using their ears to keep aloft. He ignored them the best he could as he pulled himself up and over the wall to safety.

Hoggle was right there, kicking at the heads. “Shoo, shoo. Go away you damn vultures.”

“Whew!” Dean wiped his brow off. He didn’t realize it, but he was sweating. “What the hell are those?”

“They’re called Fireys. And they’re crazy. Leave it to you to run into them,” Hoggle grumbled.

“Hoggle, I know we’ve had our differences, but you’re starting to become a really good-”

“No, don’t say it!” Hoggle tried to get Dean to stop, but it was too late.

“-friend.”

Suddenly, the floor dropped out from under them and they fell. Dean and Hoggle slid and tumbled down a stone chute until they fell from an opening, just barely catching themselves before they fell even further. They were now clinging to the side of a wall with barely eight inches of ledge under their feet.

“Oh, my god!” Dean gagged at the smell in the air. He covered his nose with his free hand. “Doesn’t this place ever stop? What the hell is that?”

“Welcome to the Bog of Eternal Stench, Dean,” Hoggle answered as he covered his nose as well.

“I’ve smelled some bad things, but this?” The hunter’s eyes were watering. It was _bad_. He looked down at the greyish-green ooze beneath the ledge they were standing on. Bubbles formed on the surface before breaking with loud farting noises and releasing noxious fumes into the air. The two of them were lucky that they caught themselves before they took a swan dive directly into it.

“Yep, pretty bad, huh? See why I cringe every time Sam threatens me? You can’t blame me, can you? Who wants to smell like that forever? He’s done it, too, thrown people in.”

“Have you actually seen him do it?” Dean still wasn’t so sure Sam would be that cruel.

“Well, uh, no. But he has. Others have seen it,” Hoggle said assuredly.

“Let’s just get out of here before I die. This is just…” Dean had no words to describe it as he sidled along the narrow edge, Hoggle following behind him.

After about fifteen feet, the blocks below their feet broke off. Dean managed to catch himself, but Hoggle wasn’t so lucky. He was dangling by what appeared to be a piece of rebar sticking out from the wall. 

“Help!” the dwarf called up to Dean desperately as he tried to catch hold of anything with his feet to brace himself.

“Hang on, Hoggle.” Dean leaned over and grabbed the dwarf’s free hand and pulled until he was safely on the ledge again. “You okay?”

Hoggle nodded. He was alright, but his heart wasn’t. It was pounding furiously in his chest.

“Alright, then. Come on.” Dean continued along the ledge, Hoggle close behind. Not even ten feet later, the rocks came out from under them again. This time they both fell and there was nothing to grab onto. Dean closed his eyes and held his breath, expecting to fall into the sludge below.

What neither man was expecting was the red, shaggy carpet they fell onto. It was Ludo.

“Ludo! Holy shit, man! You don’t know how glad I am to see you.” Dean clapped the troll on the shoulder once he was back on his feet and Ludo smiled.

“Dean!”

“Where’ve you been, pal?”

“Smell bad!” Ludo whined.

“Yeah, I know.” Dean noticed Hoggle wasn’t around. “Hey, where’s Hoggle?”

Suddenly, they heard muffled yells coming from under Ludo.

“Oh, crap! Ludo, you’re sitting on him! Get up!” Dean started pulling on the troll’s big arm.

Ludo stood up and turned around to see what it was that he was sitting on.

Hoggle pushed up from the ground and jumped back, eyes wide in terror, looking at the troll before him.

“He’s alright, Hoggle. We’re old friends.”

“Smell bad!” Ludo continued to complain, waving his hand in front of his nose.

“Okay, okay, I know.” Dean looked around to see what their options were. He spied a simple bridge not too far away. “Hey, look. There’s a bridge over there.” Dean didn’t wait for the others as he took off to check the structure out.

“Halt!” a small foxlike creature came running out from the trees on its hind legs. He looked like a guard of some sort. A hat with a feather in it adorned his head. The creature’s mustache and eyebrows reminded Dean of the Wiseman, white and overly long. There was a black patch covering his left eye and he was missing his left ear as well. “You cannot pass,” his shrill voice stated firmly.

“We need to get to the other side and, as far as I can see, this is the only way.” Dean replied to the small guard.

“You can’t go across without my permission.” The guard held his ground.

“Look, I don’t have a lot of time. I need to get to the center of the Labyrinth,” Dean pleaded.

“Yes, and we’ve got to get away from this disgusting place,” Hoggle threw in, stepping up next to Dean.

“Smell bad!” Ludo whined again.

“What smell? My sense of smell is thousands of times stronger than yours and I don’t smell anything except for the sweet and fragrant air.” The guard sniffed at the air.

Dean lifted an eyebrow. Yeah, Alice in Wonderland. Definitely. Things were getting curiouser and curiouser as Alice liked to say.

Hoggle couldn’t take it anymore. “You know what, I’m through with this. Move out of my way.” He pushed by the guard and ran across the bridge before he could be stopped.

“Hoggle!” Dean yelled out to him, but the dwarf kept on running and continued right into the trees.

Ludo went to make the same move, but the guard was ready this time and blocked him, thumping the troll in the knees with his short staff. The troll tried to push him out of the way, but the guard leapt onto Ludo’s back, pulling his hair and biting him. He began to hit Ludo with his staff again, cracking him right over the head. It only made the troll get angrier. Ludo twisted around and tried to reach the small creature, but wasn’t having any luck.

Finally, Ludo was able to get the guard off his back and threw him off into the brush, but the guard wouldn’t give up. He came running back at the troll with zero fear. Dean heard a dog begin to bark and out from behind a tree, a big, shaggy sheepdog came running. It stood at Ludo’s feet and continued to bark, adding to the chaos.

Ludo had obviously had enough because he picked a large tree branch up from the ground and started swinging it at the two of them.

Dean watched the spectacle before him. This was getting ridiculous. “Stop! Enough!” he bellowed. Ludo, the guard, and the dog all stopped and turned their heads to him. “Thank you. Now, as I said before, I don’t have a lot of time. What do we have to do to get across your bridge?”

The guard looked up at him, breathing heavily. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually had someone ask me before. You need my permission. That’s all.”

Dean rolled his eyes. Of course. “Well, can we have permission to cross your bridge, then?”

After a long and thoughtful pause, the guard said, “Yes, I, Sir Didymus, give you permission to cross my bridge.”

“Thank you,” Dean replied. He walked up to the bridge. It was only a wooden plank running from one end to the other. Dean tentatively placed a foot onto the wood and tested it. He would trust a demon more than he trusted the looks of the thing, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

“Do not fear. This bridge has been here for one thousand years.” As if to prove its stability, Didymus tapped the end of the bridge with his staff.

Dean ignored him as he started walking across. He was exactly at the mid-point when the whole thing started coming down. “Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled. He reached up to grab an overhanging branch just as the plank fell out from under his feet, splashing into the murky depths below. Now he was dangling over the bog and he could hear the branch beginning to snap under his weight.

Ludo started howling.

“This isn’t time for mourning, Ludo. Find something to save my ass,” Dean yelled from where he was dangling. He tried not to look down as he grasped the branch even tighter.

Ludo ignored Dean and continued his call. Didymus’ eyes widened when he saw large boulders begin to shift and move. Soon, several were rolling into the bog under Dean and settled below him.

The last one moved into place just as the branch snapped and Dean fell. He landed safely on the rock below him. The hunter looked over at the troll and smiled. “Thanks, Ludo. That was awesome.”

“Rocks, friends. Dean, friend,” Ludo said as Dean finished crossing the bog. The troll followed right behind him.

Didymus jumped onto the dog’s back and rode him like a horse over the stones. “Good job, Ambrosius, my trusty steed,” he complimented the canine.

Once they were across, Hoggle came out of the trees, holding his nose. “Yuck!”

“Hoggle, dude, you gotta make up your mind. You with me or not on this? ‘Cause right now, it seems more like not.” Dean was starting to get irritated with Hoggle running off, and then showing up out of the blue again when it seemed to benefit him.

“I’m sorry, Dean. It’s just…this place. I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, well, neither do I.” Dean looked at his watch. They had wasted too much time already. “I gotta get going. You can come, or you can stay. It’s up to you. But whatever you choose, that’s it. No more games.” Dean turned and strode off into the trees without waiting for an answer.

It wasn’t long before Didymus trotted by Dean on Ambrosius and took point; Ludo followed immediately behind the guard, having become fast friends with him, and Hoggle slowly brought up the rear behind the hunter.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Hoggle fell farther behind the pack after a while. He was fingering the apple that Sam told him to give to Dean. No, he couldn’t do it. The dwarf raised his arm and went to throw it into the bog.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Sam’s disembodied voice came from above.

Caught. Damn. “Oh, please, Sam. I can’t.” Hoggle looked down at the fruit in his hand and sighed. He turned to follow the others.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean’s stomach growled. What he wouldn’t do for a bacon cheeseburger right now. “What do you people do for food around here? I’m starving and something tells me you don’t have any twenty-four hour taco joints around here.” He couldn’t remember the last time he ate.

“Food. Hungry,” Ludo agreed.

Didymus heard the gurgle of an empty stomach. “Ambrosius! Is that your stomach or mine?”

They were all overdue for something to eat.

“Maybe there’s berries or something out here. Most woods have stuff like that, don’t they?” Dean didn’t _do_ berries normally, but holy crap, he was so hungry right now, he’d almost settle for a salad if he had to.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Sam watched the events unfold through one of his orbs. As soon as Hoggle gave Dean the apple, he would be able to go to the man again. This time he would take his time, show Dean how he truly felt.

The Goblin King smiled at the thought of what was to come, for he knew Hoggle would do as he was told.

~^~^~^~^~^~

“Uh, Dean,” Hoggle said quietly.

“Yeah, Hoggle, what’s up?” Dean stopped and waited for the dwarf to catch up.

Hoggle extended his hand in front of him and revealed the apple to the man. “Here. This should help.”

Dean’s face lit up at the sight. “Hoggle, you’re a life saver. Thanks.” The hunter took the apple and polished it off. He lifted it to his mouth and took a large bite. He chewed for a moment then looked down at the apple. “This tastes funny.” Dean looked up at the dwarf; there were now two of him. “What did you do, Hoggle?”

“Oh, damn you, Sam!” Hoggle said as he backed up from Dean. “And damn me!” He turned and ran.

Dean felt strange, drugged almost. Something was _so_ wrong. He looked down at the apple in his hand again and it blurred in his vision. The hunter fell to his knees and blinked his eyes. What the hell had Hoggle done to him? Dean reached out to support himself on a tree by his side.

Dean could vaguely hear Didymus yelling his name and felt the guard shaking his shoulder; Ambrosius was barking in the background. Ludo was calling him, too, but the hunter couldn’t break out of the darkness that was wrapping its tight arms around him. Dean couldn’t fight it any longer and slumped to the ground, unconscious.


	7. Chapter 7

When Dean woke up – was he really awake? He never knew with Sam around – he found himself in a magnificent ballroom where a masquerade ball was in progress. (And was that a David Bowie song he heard playing in the background?) The hunter looked around, taking in the scene before him.

White chandeliers hung low from the ceiling; ropes of brilliant crystals were draped from them catching in the light, and floor standing candelabras were at various points throughout the room, their candles burning like small, twinkling stars. Large, decorative pillows were in piles here and there; most had couples entwined on them in positions Dean could only envy. Thin, gauzy fabric hung from ceiling to floor creating “walls”, but there really weren’t any true walls to be seen. The room just went on and on.

There were different levels to the room and dancers were on every one of them. The women were dressed in beautiful ball gowns; the men were in fancy doublets and breeches, although everyone’s clothing was of muted color, nothing bright as would be expected at such an event. Each of them was adorned with a hideous mask covering their true identities.

Dean glanced down at himself and lifted his brow. He was dressed in a light green doublet with cream-colored satin accents, breeches, hose, and knee-high dress boots. Unlike the others in the room, the color was vivid and he wore no mask. It was definitely something he’d never figure he’d see himself in; it certainly wasn’t something a hunter would wear. Dean cracked a smile at Sam’s inventiveness, for he knew this was Sam’s doing, without the slightest doubt.

Dean knew he should have been angry at whatever it was Sam had done to get him here, but his curiosity won out. He looked around at the crowd before starting to move through it. The other attendees swirled around him and every now and then one would sweep right up to him and mysterious eyes would peer at Dean through whatever gruesome mask they had on. Laughter filled the air; it wasn’t a pleasant sound and it chilled Dean to the core. It was almost a thing of nightmares.

Up high on one of the draped “walls”, there was a large, golden clock. It was the same clock in which Sam had taken hours away from Dean’s time on when they were in the caves. Currently, it showed he had only one hour left. “Shit,” Dean grumbled to himself.

Dean struggled to get through the throng of people, but it seemed as if they were blocking his escape; everywhere he turned they closed in and wouldn’t let him pass. That was when he caught a glimpse of a familiar face in the crowd, or at least Dean thought he did before a woman passed by and it was gone. Was Sam here?

Dean began to push his way through the people with a little more vigor, looking for that face – those gold-flecked hazel eyes, that long, brown hair. Another fleeting glimpse, but then it was gone again. The hunter stopped and turned, looking over the heads of the dancers; it wasn’t too hard, for he was taller than most of them. The crowd began to part, and there, standing at the far end of the room was the object of Dean’s pursuit. Even behind the mask, Dean knew it was him.

Sam was dressed in a black doublet with silver accents, black breeches, hose, and boots. His mask, which was hiding his face, was just as terrible as the others in the room, possibly even more so; it was a horned devil. When Dean made eye contact with the man, Sam lowered the mask, revealing his handsome features. And then Sam was swept away into a dance by a dark-haired woman.

Dean clenched his jaw as he watched Sam and his beautiful dance partner glide around the room, weaving in between the other dancers who made way for them. The hunter wasn’t sure why, but jealousy was growing in the pit of his stomach. At every turn, Sam looked at him and smiled, revealing deep, perfect dimples…and suddenly, he was gone again.

What the hell? Dean growled low under his breath. He was growing weary of these games and made his way over to where Sam had disappeared. Dean tried to avoid the disconcerting people sweeping across his path as they danced. He passed a woman with a large feathered fan held up over her lower face; she brought it down a moment later…and there was Sam, standing just behind her shoulder, mere feet from Dean. He didn’t smile, but his dark eyes shone with a fierceness that both turned Dean on and made him shiver at the same time.

“What’s with the playing hard to get?” Dean asked before Sam could disappear on him again.

“I just wanted to see if you really wanted to be here with me or not. Would you keep looking or try to find a way out?” Sam said somberly as he stepped out from behind the woman and approached the hunter. He took Dean’s right hand in his left and wrapped his right arm tightly around the man, pressing his hand in on the small of the hunter’s back, pulling him close. They joined the other people and began to slowly dance, circling around the room.

Sam stared down into Dean’s moss green eyes and smiled. “Do you?” he asked the hunter after a while.

“Do I what?” Dean had lost himself in the hypnotic motion of the dance.

“Want to be here with me. You’ve been sending me mixed signals. I don’t know what you want.” Sam spun Dean and pulled him back. “I know what _I_ want. I don’t think I can go on without you now that we’ve met. It’s almost as if I _need_ you. I hurt when you’re not with me. You bring me a sense of peace.”

Dean didn’t know what to say to Sam’s words. How could the man feel that way? They didn’t know each other, not at all. But then, something in Dean’s heart knew he couldn’t live without Sam either, even after everything the man had put him through, and would probably still put him through. Since the first dream, Dean hadn’t been able to keep Sam out of his head for more than a few hours at a time.

“I…um…” Dean started, but could he really go down this path? Sam wasn’t human. He didn’t really know what Sam even was, except for King of this god-awful place.

Sam leaned down and Dean could feel his warm breath on his neck as he spoke.

“What does your heart tell you, Dean?” He brushed his lips along the stubble on Dean’s jaw and pressed a kiss lightly to the side of the hunter’s neck.

Dean closed his eyes and tried to control his body’s reactions to the man’s touch. Sam was just too much. The man’s scent was in his nose; his touch was sending sparks through Dean’s body; his voice made Dean want to give in and let Sam take him right where they stood. It was almost impossible to think clearly. “It says the same thing yours does…but I’m just not sure I can follow it.” He blew out a deep breath. Dean was still trying to hold his ground; it wasn’t working too well. He knew if Sam pushed, the paper-thin wall he had built up would crumble.

The Goblin King stopped butterflying kisses up Dean’s neck and looked at the man. Why couldn’t Dean just give in, follow his heart?

“I’m a hunter, Sam. I hunt things, beings like you.” They continued their dance without falter as he spoke. “But you know, even after all the shit you’ve put me through for the past, what, nine hours or so…or hell, the past couple of months, I still find myself overwhelmingly drawn to you. And I don’t know why. Christ, I don’t even _know_ you.”

Sam only smiled again. Dean was fighting a battle…and he was losing. “It’s because your heart knows what’s best. It’s all relative, Dean. You…me, we need each other. That loneliness you feel, I can fill that void, just as you can fill mine. All these years and you’re the only person who I’ve ever been drawn to like this, the only person I’ve ever felt happy with. It’s fate, Dean.”

“I don’t believe in fate.” That was all Dean said in response to Sam.

Sam frowned. Dean was an unbelievably stubborn man. This could be fixed. He leaned down and kissed Dean, full on the mouth. Sam licked along the man’s lips until Dean relented and began to kiss him back. They stopped dancing, right there in the middle of the room, and Sam reached up behind Dean’s head, threading his fingers through the man’s hair, and held him there as he mapped out the interior of the hunter’s mouth, tasting him.

Dean’s heart quickened its beat as he parted his lips for Sam. He knew everything the man just told him was true. Why couldn’t he accept it? His knees grew weak as the kiss deepened; his cock twitched and grew hard as Sam leaned into him, pulling him closer. Dean could feel Sam’s need as well; he moaned into the kiss and wrapped his arms around him, digging his fingers into the thick fabric of Sam’s jacket.

Sam caught that soft, lustful moan with his mouth and tightened his embrace around Dean. He didn’t want to let him go, not now that he had him.

But eventually, the kiss had to come to an end. When Sam pulled away, the room was empty of its dancers, all except for himself and Dean. He led the man over to a pile of pillows which were situated nearby on the floor and motioned for him to sit down.

Dean hardly noticed the absence of the other dancers. He followed Sam as if he was under a spell and sat down when the man bid him to do so; Sam took a seat next to him.

Shifting closer to Dean, Sam smoothed his hand over the hunter’s chest, stopping over his heart for a moment to feel its quick beat under his palm, and then he continued down his taut stomach, eventually settling on the bulge in the man’s pants. “See, you want this, too.” He squeezed gently. “Just give in, let what is meant to be, happen. You can’t keep denying this. It will drive us both mad if you do.” Sam looked into Dean’s eyes and held his gaze, trying to read him. The hunter wasn’t as easy to read as most. He was an enigma and it intrigued Sam.

The King’s soothing voice comforted Dean, drew him in. This time it was Dean who reached up and pulled Sam in for another kiss. The man swung a leg across Dean’s lap and situated himself so he could straddle him as their lips met. The hunter felt Sam’s hands move with purpose over the buttons of his doublet. Soon, the coat was slipped from his shoulders and Sam began working quickly on the ties to his under shirt. It wasn’t long before Sam broke the kiss and tugged the linen material up and over Dean’s head.

Sam began to work on his own clothing after, but Dean pushed his hands away and took over. A flush had spread over the King’s neck and his hazel eyes sparkled in the light of the candles. “God, you’re gorgeous,” the hunter said in a soft whisper. It took time to get the buttons undone; Dean was nervous and his fingers were shaking. Once he managed on fumbling through the fastenings, Sam pulled his arms from the heavy coat and let it drop to the floor behind him.

Sam smiled and pushed Dean gently down onto the pillows. “I got the rest.” He yanked his shirt up over his head, and then untied his breeches.

Before Dean knew it, Sam had his boots, hose, and breeches off and was on straddling him again, this time leaning down and supporting himself on extended arms, hands resting to either side of the hunter’s head. He hovered over Dean almost teasingly.

“Your turn,” Sam said with a twinkle in his eye.

Dean quickly reached down between them and managed to untie his breeches without getting them into a knot. Sam scooted back and began to pull his boots and hose off. Soon, the cool air of the room hit Dean’s hot and throbbing flesh and he sighed. Here he was, naked with a man whom he both despised and desired. It was the strangest thing to feel the way he did right now. If anyone ever asked Dean to explain it, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to. Maybe Sam was right; maybe it _was_ fate.

Once Sam had Dean stripped of every bit of clothing, he crawled back onto him and relished the touch of their naked bodies. It had been so long since he last had the hunter in his possession like this. If he could only get through to Dean, they could have this for real. These dreamscapes couldn’t satisfy their true need for each other.

Sam trailed his tongue up Dean’s tanned and muscular chest, stopping to nibble and suck at the tightened nipples, one then the other. The man’s body rolled with constant motion and Sam felt the tight grip of fingers in his hair. He smirked at the thought of how much Dean wanted him, even if the hunter couldn’t bring himself to voice it. As Sam thought earlier, Dean could try to deny this all he wanted, but they were meant to be; they needed each other

When Sam was with Dean, all of his troubles seemed to melt away. He could think clearly again; the storm clouds in his mind made way for the sunshine that was Dean. That man he was when Dean wasn’t by his side, the Goblin King, that wasn’t Sam. It was never who he wanted to be. Deep down in Sam’s heart, he was truly a gentle soul. What people, goblins, etc. saw of him on a daily basis was just a front. He did that as a matter of survival. Sam was King and that position demanded a certain kind of respect. The things he’d done, the person he’d become, all of it was because it was the only way Sam knew how to gain that respect. Lately, Sam was having a difficult time finding himself; the Goblin King and Sam were becoming one and it was starting to scare him; to keep the two separate was becoming a challenge. The things he’d done to Dean…

Sam shook his head and forced himself to focus on the man below him. If he could hold onto Dean then maybe he could find his way out of the darkness he had somehow gotten lost in over the years. Sam was stuck in his own bleak labyrinth. It was just as real as the one outside his city, but it was far worse; he didn’t know the secret to escaping the one in his head.

Dean rocked up into Sam’s long and lean body. He released his hold from the man’s hair and trailed his fingers down over Sam’s shoulders, down his arms, and squeezed the firm flesh of his biceps. He had missed Sam’s touch, more than he had been willing to admit.

“Kiss me, Sam,” Dean breathed out, looking into Sam’s darkened gaze. He had no idea what was going through Sam’s mind, the constant turmoil behind Sam’s piercing eyes. All he knew was that he wanted the man.

The words were barely out of his mouth before Sam was there, giving Dean what he wanted, taking what was given. The hunter met the King’s mouth with just as much need and want as Sam. Their teeth clashed and their tongues danced and tangled, vying for dominance. Dean let his hands roam down Sam’s sides, feeling each and every bump of his ribs, every ripple of muscle under flesh, and then gripped the firm globes of his ass, pulling him in even closer still. Dean gasped into the kiss as he arched his back and their cocks met and slid together.

Sam pulled away and pushed up onto his hands again. He saw a look on Dean’s face that he would always cherish, whether they made this work or not. The emerald green of the hunter’s eyes was almost non-existent; his pupils were wide and lust-blown; his lips were red and kiss swollen, and his cheeks were flushed with emotion. Dean gazed up with longing in his eyes.

“I want you, Dean.” The words came out in an almost animalistic growl. Sam let his fingers trace down Dean’s abdomen and drift through the soft downy hairs. He didn’t stop until he was rubbing them up against Dean’s tight entrance. The hunter squirmed under his touch. “I need you,” he said so quietly, he was sure Dean didn’t hear him.

Dean’s eyes closed as his breath quickened and his heart raced. They shot wide open a moment later as the heat of Sam’s mouth was suddenly surrounding him, taking his length down to the root. He shuddered with desire as the man continued to suck deeply and roll his tongue against the underside of Dean’s aching flesh. The hunter couldn’t move; Sam had a hand at the hollow of Dean’s hip and was holding him in place as he pleasured and teased him. “Oh, god!” Dean moaned and tilted his head back into the pillows. The soft lights of the candelabra above them blurred in his vision. Dean buried his fingers into Sam’s shoulders. Yes, this is where he belonged…with Sam. “Take me, Sam. I want you to fuck me.”

Sam’s hot, slick mouth disappeared from Dean’s cock and the King sat up on his knees. Dean could almost see the man tremble with want and need. Sam’s rigid length was right there, long and thick, moisture beading at its tip. The hunter bit his bottom lip wondering how much this was going to hurt. He’d never been with a man before and Sam was more than well-endowed.

Sam knew what Dean was thinking. He saw the brief expression of fear flit through the man’s eyes. “We’ll take our time. There’s no hurry.” Sam leaned back down, nuzzled into Dean’s neck and whispered, “We have all the time in the world.”

 _Time_ … Dean heard the word spoken softly from Sam’s lips. Why was that word so important? Time. Thirteen hours. He glanced up at the clock on the wall. Dean had to get home and he had less than one hour left. His eyes widened at the recollection. The hunter looked up at Sam, saw what he believed were genuine feelings on the man’s face, but Dean wasn’t meant to stay here. They couldn’t have this; this wasn’t his home; he couldn’t be with Sam.

Sam saw Dean’s expression change suddenly. No! Nononono… “Dean…” The name fell from his lips on a choked whisper. He reached out to touch the man, but Dean shied away from him.

“I…I can’t, Sam. I have to get home.” Dean scooted backwards, away from Sam, pulling his clothing up to cover himself. “I need to go home. I can’t stay here.” He shook his head, eyes glistening with unshed tears. It hurt to do this, to tell Sam no, but he was so confused and the only thing Dean knew for sure was that he needed to go home. The Labyrinth wasn’t home.

The King couldn’t help it when his eyes welled up and tears began to spill down his face. He thought he was finally getting through to Dean; he was so close. Sam felt as if he would die were he to never see the man again. He swallowed the lump in his throat, wiped the tears from his face and pressed the heels of his palms into his closed lids.

The change was almost instant. When Sam’s hands came away, the visage of the Goblin King was back, cold and hard. He stood up; the look in his eyes was glacial. “If that is what you wish, I will hinder you no longer.” His words were frosty and emotionless. “Go to my castle; Hoggle will show you the way. No one will try to stop you. I will wait for you there and I will send you home as you wish.”

Dean’s breath hitched. His heart felt as if it was being torn from his chest. If he hadn’t just seen it for himself, Dean would have never believed it, it was so brief and fleeting…the expression of total devastation that had been on Sam’s face. And Dean was the reason. The icy mask the man wore now was just that, a mask. Dean finally figured him out. The real Sam was the one he saw in these dreams, not the Goblin King from the Labyrinth.

With a loud _CLAP!,_ Sam disappeared. The room, and everything in it, began to shimmer and dissolve. “No…,” Dean whispered. Why did it feel like he had just made the worst decision of his life?

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean felt a warm and wet tongue licking up the side of his face. He opened his eyes to find Ambrosius giving him more than his fair share of doggy kisses.

“Dude, get off!” Dean said as he reached up and pushed the dog away.

“Oh, thank god! We thought we lost you,” Didymus said as he pulled Ambrosius back to give Dean some breathing room. “Are you alright, my fine sir?”

“No,” Dean started, and then backed up and said, “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s just get out of here.” Ludo was there and Dean reached up for a helping hand. “Ludo, a little help if you don’t mind.”

The troll reached down and gently pulled Dean from the ground. “Dean…,” the hairy beast said worriedly, head tilted and brow furrowed in concern.

“Don’t worry about me, Ludo,” Dean tried to reassure him as he stood there, trying to get his bearings. Whatever was in that apple had just about worn off, but he was still a little woozy.

“Dean! What did you do?” It was Hoggle running through the trees as fast as his short legs could go. “What did you do to Sam? He’s…he’s so, I don’t know, broken? He told me to come get you and bring you directly to the castle. He says he’s going to send you home. I’ve never, in all my years, seen him like this.”

“What do you care? You hate him anyway,” Dean said almost coldly. He was aching deep down inside at what had just transpired between himself and the King. Sam truly wanted Dean, had feelings for him; the hunter saw it clearly in the man’s eyes just before he pushed him away for the umpteenth time. Dean could kick himself for being so cruel. It wouldn’t hurt so much if Dean didn’t feel the same right back.

Before Hoggle could reply to Dean’s accusation, the hunter stormed off into a nearby stand of trees. A loud “FUCK!” was heard not too long after and birds flew up from the forest canopy, scared off. It also caused the four companions to jump, but they were all smart enough to let Dean air out.

Hoggle may not be the brightest dwarf in the realm, but he could plainly see what was going on. He didn’t hate Sam per se. He’d been around since before the man had become King of this land, before his unwanted crowning; Sam wasn’t always so cold and cruel. There was once a time when the King was sweet and innocent. The centuries – or was it millennia by now? – had changed him.

The man had grown lonely and, sadly, Sam had become someone very _different_ over time. He had shut himself down, grown frigid. He demanded respect in the cruelest fashion, although Dean was correct in his thinking, Sam had never really harmed anyone. But somehow rumors spread and the land had come to fear him. Even the Labyrinth, which had once been beautiful, changed just like Sam over time. Now people feared it as much as they feared him. Even Hoggle, his oldest friend, had learned to tread lightly around Sam over the last few years.

This human, Dean, had somehow found a way into Sam’s frozen heart. Hoggle could see it in Sam’s eyes when the King was around the man. Hoggle had long hoped for a day when Sam would change, go back to his kinder, gentler self. That day had finally gotten close enough that Hoggle could almost touch it…and Dean was keeping it from happening. It looked as if Sam had given up on the hunter as well. What Hoggle had just seen of the King, it wasn’t good.

Hoggle looked into the trees when he heard heavy footsteps coming toward them. Dean was returning. He walked right by them, heading off down the trail.

“Um, Dean…,” Hoggle meekly called out to the man.

Dean stopped and turned around, eying Hoggle with narrowed eyes. “What, Hoggle?”

“The castle’s this way.” The dwarf pointed back over his shoulder. “And also, you have to say goodbye to them.” He gestured to Ludo, Didymus, and Ambrosius with a tilt of his head. “Sam said for me to bring you, and you alone.”

Didymus looked sharply at Hoggle. “I shall go where I please. I am part of his Majesty’s Royal Guard. Hmph!” He stood there, looking ruffled, and crossed his arms.

Ludo just looked from Hoggle to Dean as the man came back up the path. “Dean… Will miss you.” He approached the hunter and took the man into a big bear hug, not letting Dean’s current mood sway him from the gesture.

Dean couldn’t help but smile, but he had to push back after a minute; he couldn’t breathe. Looking up at Ludo, Dean held his smile. “I’m gonna miss you, too, Ludo. Thanks for all the help.”

“Dean, friend” was Ludo’s response.

“Yeah, you’re my friend, too, you big hippie.” Dean reached up and ruffled the troll’s hair before turning to Didymus. “I think you should help Ludo get home. He and these woods don’t get along so good, and well, Sam and I may have some personal things to discuss up at the castle.”

The small guard pondered over Dean’s request. “Okay, I will gladly take on that mission. I wish you luck on your journey, my good sir.” He mounted Ambrosius and looked at Ludo. “Come, then. Let’s take you home, my brother.” He spurred the dog on and Ludo followed, giving one last look back at his friend.

“Goodbye, Dean…friend.”

“See you around, Ludo.”

Dean watched the three as they grew smaller in the distance. He knew he’d miss them even if they were kind of crazy. And then he thought about the road ahead of him and turned to Hoggle.

“Well, lead the way. I’m sure he’s waiting for us.”

Hoggle took a few nervous steps toward Dean. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“I’d rather not after you gave me that rotten apple. What the hell’s wrong with you, man?” Dean glared at the dwarf.

“He made me do it, Dean. I told Sam I wouldn’t give it to you if it was gonna hurt you, but he promised it wouldn’t. He didn’t give me much of a choice. He threatened-”

“It hurt me more than you know.” Dean cut him off and sighed heavily. The few private minutes out in the woods had helped relieve some of the tension he was feeling, but didn’t come close to mending his heart. “What is it you want to talk about?”

Hoggle gestured to a large oak tree that had fallen near the trail. “Take a seat. We have some time before we have to leave.”

Dean frowned, but did as the dwarf requested. He waited for whatever it was the little man had to tell him.

Hoggle jumped up and sat next to Dean. He spent the next half hour telling Dean all about Sam and how he became the man he was today.

“So you see, he never wanted this. He was chosen because some soothsayer said he would become a great king someday. This land has always been a little chaotic and Sam was crowned at a very young age. His life was taken away from him and his bitterness has festered all these many years. You can’t blame him for the way he is, Dean. Sam used to be so full of life and energy, and now he’s just… Well, you see what he is now.” Hoggle looked at Dean. “You’re Sam’s one and only chance. He’s fallen for you. I’ve been at his side since before he was crowned and I’ve never seen him care for someone as much as he does you. And you’re breaking his heart.”

Hearing these words come from Hoggle shocked Dean. He thought the dwarf despised the Goblin King. “Uh, well…” Dean didn’t know what to say. But what Hoggle said didn’t change anything; Sam still wasn’t ever going to be human and Dean still needed to go home. He couldn’t stay here no matter how much he thought he’d like to. Dean stood up. “I’m sorry, Hoggle, but I can’t do what you want me to. This isn’t my home.”

The dwarf groaned. Hadn’t Dean heard a word he said? And he thought Sam was a damn stubborn fool. These two were meant for each other, in more ways than one.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean followed Hoggle through the Forbidden Forest. He could feel unseen creatures watching, but true to Sam’s word, nothing tried to stop them. Eventually, small shacks and cabins started to make an appearance and soon they found themselves at the gates to the Goblin City.

The hunter looked around. He was surrounded by goblins of all shapes and sizes; some, he couldn’t even tell if they were male or female. One thing they all had in common, though, was that they were all armed.

They stopped at the large iron gate in the city wall and Hoggle left Dean to go speak with the gatekeeper. After a few minutes, the goblin glanced from Hoggle to Dean. The expression on his face was far from friendly, but he looked back at the dwarf and nodded. A second later, the gate lifted, allowing them entrance to the city.

If Dean thought things looked chaotic from outside, he had something of a shock when they walked in. Small stone buildings and shacks made up most of the structures inside the walls; most looked to be in total disrepair. Chickens ran amuck; goats and sheep wandered around aimlessly, and there were even more goblins. Most of the goblins appeared to be less than sober. Several brawls (small battles?) were in progress. Hoggle made sure to keep their path clear of them.

Sam rules all of this? No wonder he was so miserable, Dean thought to himself. It was a disaster area. “Why would anyone want to be king of this?” He looked all around in partial fascination at what he was seeing.

“He had no choice. Oh, wait, maybe you don’t recall because I don’t think you actually _heard_ a word I said earlier,” Hoggle said sarcastically.

“Dammit, Hoggle. I heard _everything_ you said. What you _and_ Sam both need to realize is that I have a life at home. It may not be the prettiest, but it’s mine. And this place,” he looked around, “someone like me can’t be happy here.” As Dean said the words, his heart broke just a little more knowing Sam felt the same way, but didn’t have the same choice Dean did. What little bit of happiness the King had found was going to leave him.

“Thanks for nothing,” mumbled Hoggle.

Dean stayed silent. Talk about a guilt trip. But he wasn't going to apologize for wanting to go home. The hunter looked up and saw the castle looming up ahead. “Looks like the end of the road.”

“Yeah, my job’s done. Just let the guard know who you are and he’ll let you in. I’m gonna go get a drink and find some _real _friends.” Hoggle turned to leave.__

Dean suddenly realized he still had Hoggle’s pouch of jewels. “Wait, Hoggle. Here, I think you might want these back.” He untied the small bag from his belt loop and held it out to the dwarf.

Hoggle glanced at Dean and took it without saying anything. After, he spun on his heel and stalked off again.

“Hey, take care, Hoggle,” Dean called out to him.

Hoggle kept walking and waved Dean off. He was anything but happy.

Dean chewed on his bottom lip and shook his head. He didn’t like leaving things like this, but he had an appointment he couldn’t break. The hunter turned and walked down the cobblestone road to the castle gate. It was going to be interesting to see how this whole thing with Sam was going to go.


	8. Chapter 8

It was no problem getting through the guard. Really, how many humans were traipsing through the Goblin City these days? From what Dean had seen, there was only one. Him. And the King was expecting him.

The interior of the castle was impressive to say the least, but it was devoid of life; it was too cold and silent. Dean passed through a small antechamber and into the Great Hall. The room looked as if it normally held a swarm of people (or goblins) as the stone floor was littered with random pieces of furniture, armor, plates and bowls, and a variety of other things, but it was currently empty. Sam must have thrown everyone out in his fury; that was Dean’s best guess.

Dean crossed the room and entered another which wasn’t quite as big. It was the throne room. Once again, it looked as if there was a late-night party that had ended not too long ago. The large, velvet and wood throne sat empty. If Sam wanted Dean to meet him here, he should have at least met him at the door. Dean had no idea where the King could be hiding in this place.

There was another door at the far end of the room and Dean went to it. He turned the knob and found that it was unlocked; he opened the door and walked in. What he found on the other side was a beautiful bedroom. The dark, wooden furniture had carvings that were painstakingly detailed and the wood was polished to a high sheen. Several tall windows were set in two of the walls, their thick drapes moving in the soft breeze coming through them. Dean could tell this room was different than the others he had seen. This was Sam’s private quarters. But like the previous two rooms, this one was empty as well.

The hunter looked over his shoulder. No one was there; he could spare a couple extra minutes checking the place out. It was hard not to think that if he stayed here with Sam, this would be his room as well.

Dean let his fingers trail along the smooth surface of a desk. He approached a window and looked out to the sprawling Labyrinth beyond. It was a lot bigger than Dean had originally thought it to be. He turned after a minute and walked over to the oversized, canopied bed. It was up on a dais and thick down comforters were spread over it. Mounds of pillows were placed at the head of the bed. Dean smiled. He climbed up onto the bed and lay down, closing his eyes, savoring the feeling. If only things could be different, Dean thought. But no, he had to find Sam. He reluctantly got up with a groan and exited the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

After some hunting and searching, Dean found a spiral staircase leading up through the center of the tower. He ascended the stairs two at a time. At the top, Dean came to a doorway and stepped through it. What he saw made his mind reel. That crazy, but talented, artist Escher came to mind instantly. (Yeah, Dean knew who he was.)

Flights of stairs ascended, descended, were right-side up and upside down; some were even sideways. And doorways abound. If Sam had created this…

“Sam!” Dean called out. Something in Dean’s gut told him this was where he would find the man.

Dean ran up and down flights of stairs, crossed landings, found another flight of stairs and went up them. There was no answer from the man. “Sam!” he continued to call out. “Look, I know you’re not happy about the way things-”

“Stop.” The word was quiet, but firm, and Dean heard it well enough. He looked up and Sam was at the very top of the outlandish room. He was dressed in tight, black jeans, white shirt with billowing sleeves, and a form-fitting leather vest. The man was striking to look at as he stared down at Dean.

“Sam, can we talk? Please…” Dean didn’t want to leave Sam like this. They had something; Dean wasn’t so hard-headed that he didn’t realize that. But what he needed Sam to understand was exactly what he had told Hoggle. He had a home…and it wasn’t here. Bobby had no one, neither did Dean. They had no one but each other. Dean couldn’t leave the man alone; Bobby was getting up there in years. Plus Dean was telling Hoggle the truth when he said he felt he couldn’t truly be happy here.

Dean watched as Sam stepped back from the ledge and moved from his sight. “Dammit,” he mumbled, but then jumped when he heard Sam’s voice right next to him.

“What more can we talk about, Dean? You want to go home. That’s why you’re here. You’ve made that abundantly clear.” Sam’s eyes were still hard and emotionless as he looked at Dean.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Dean took a step toward Sam, but the man backed up. For a split second Dean saw pain in Sam’s eyes, but it was almost gone before it was there, replaced again with that frosty glare. What had he done? Hoggle was right. Sam was broken. “Jesus, Sam. Don’t be like this. Hoggle told me-”

“He shouldn’t have told you anything!” Sam spat out angrily before spinning and leaping down a flight of stairs.

Dean went to follow, but when he got to the top of the steps, the King was no longer there. He huffed out a frustrated breath. Sam was running from him. “Sam, cut the crap and talk to me!” The hunter looked around, up, down, sideways. He knew the man was hiding somewhere.

“What? Are you going to tell me how much you care for me, have feelings for me…love me? And then what? Leave me?” Sam appeared across the way from Dean, hands on his hips. He didn’t wait for Dean to reply. “You need to leave before you make things worse. I don’t think I can handle it… _you_ , anymore.”

“But…” How could Sam just shut him out like this? Now that Dean finally realized what he wanted, it was being refused. Sam was telling him no. It was too late.

The stone landing below Dean started to tremble. Soon every staircase in the room began to break away from their landings; all but the one Sam was on. The hunter stumbled and tried to hold on, but the effort was fruitless.

The ground crumbled beneath his feet and Dean fell. Sam got farther and farther away. “But Sam, I do love you!” Dean called out as he tumbled into the nothingness below. The hunter could almost imagine he saw Sam wipe a stray tear from his cheek as he fell. “No!”

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean opened his eyes and sat up. “Jesus Christ!” He jumped out of bed and stumbled, knocking the lamp beside the bed to the floor with a crash. Yanking the curtain back from the window, he prayed. But no. Singer Salvage lay before him in the late afternoon light, no Labyrinth. “Shit!” he yelled, angry at Sam, angry at himself.

The bedroom door hit the wall behind Dean and he jumped. The hunter whirled around to face Bobby who was holding a rifle up at him. “Whoa! Bobby, what the hell? Put that thing down. It’s just me.”

Bobby lowered the weapon almost immediately. “Dean? What damn hole did you crawl out of? I’ve been back for near on three days and you were just missing. I put calls out…everything. No one had seen hide nor hair of you. And the Impala’s been parked out front the whole time.”

The young hunter’s shoulders sagged. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, I’ve got plenty of time.” Bobby could see something was different about Dean, nothing good either. “Come on. I’ll get a pot of coffee brewin’ and we can talk. Looks like you need to get something outta your system.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dean walked past Bobby, heading toward the door. He felt the soft press of a hand on his shoulder.

“Dean, whatever it is, you’ll be alright.” Bobby wasn’t so sure though. Dean had a faraway look in his eyes that he’d never seen before, not even when John Winchester died.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Bobby let out a low whistle hours later. They were sitting in the study and Dean had just finished telling the man _everything_.

“So, basically what you’re tellin’ me is you passed on the possible one true love of your life to come back to me? Well, Dean, that just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

Dean’s eyes widened at the man’s comment. “Bobby-”

“Son, don’t. I don’t care if he’s the Easter Bunny or a shapeshifter…well, actually, he is a shapeshifter if you want to take it literally…but love is love no matter how screwed up it is. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate you not wanting to leave me all alone here. Hell, I woulda been wondering where you were if you never came back. My only clue was the page you left bookmarked here at my desk.” Bobby opened the book up to the page and looked down at the picture of the Goblin King. “So this is Sam?” he said after a while and looked up at Dean.

“Yeah, that’s him.” Dean was sitting on the edge of the couch with his forearms resting on his knees; an empty coffee mug sat by his feet on the floor. “The drawing doesn’t do him justice.” A hint of a smile showed on his face as he thought about Sam.

“He is a fine-looking lad. That’s if guys are what you’re into.” He looked up at Dean, eyes hinting at the unspoken question.

“Hey, no. Don’t look at me like that. I’ve never… I’ve always been with girls. You know that. But Sam, he’s different. It’s hard to explain.”

“Dean, there’s nothing hard at all here. You’re in love with the man. The whole time you talked about him and that crazy Labyrinth, I could see it in your eyes.” Bobby grinned. “And I have nothing against you being with a man either…if that’s what makes you happy, Dean.”

Dean stood up unexpectedly. “Well, it’s a little too late now. I blew it. He would hardly even look at me when he dumped my ass into that abyss and sent me back here.” The hunter left, walking out the front door without saying anything more.

Bobby heard a car door open and slam closed. The Impala roared to life a second later, and then some godforsaken rock-n-roll song was blaring, pushing the speakers to their limits. He sighed and shook his head when he heard the clatter of gravel hitting the front porch as Dean spun the tires shooting off down the driveway.

Dean deserved better; he deserved to be happy. The old hunter looked down at the book in front of him. The pictures and words were familiar, as he’d read them over and over ever since he’d been back from the job with Rufus and found Dean missing.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Dean got back very late, so late, in fact, that it was actually morning. He’d drunk what he figured was half the bar. Maybe he shouldn’t have driven in his state. But right now? Yeah, he didn’t care. Several women had made very obvious and tempting passes at him, but Dean took none of them up on their offers. He slept on the couch, not wanting to be back in his bed for a while, if ever.

Late that morning Dean woke up to the sounds of Bobby in the kitchen.

“Oh good, you’re awake. That means you can go take a shower and wash the damn cigarettes and alcohol off. You’re stinkin’ the place up in your self-pity,” Bobby muttered from the kitchen.

Dean sat up slowly and grimaced at the ache in his head. Maybe it was more than half the bar. Shit. “Yeah…shower.” He stumbled up to his feet and headed toward the stairs.

~^~^~^~^~^~

An hour later, Dean came back downstairs. Bobby was at his desk and looked up from the large volume he was thumbing through when he heard the man’s duffel bags hit the floor.

“Where d’you think you’re going?”

“I don’t know. Away? I’ve gotta go-”

“Clear your head. Yeah, I know, Dean.” Bobby sat back in his chair and eyed the young hunter. “Or are you runnin’?”

Dean’s head snapped up at the accusation, but he couldn’t deny it. That’s what he was doing and Bobby was on to him. “Bobby… Yeah… I don’t wanna talk about it.” He picked up his bags, deciding he would get something to eat on the road. “I’ll call you,” Dean said as he opened the door.

“You be careful out there, boy. I know what you get like when you’re in this kind of mood. Don’t get yourself killed or I’ll have to come whoop your ass.”

“Don’t worry about me, Bobby. I’ll be fine.” Dean pulled the door closed and disappeared from sight.

~^~^~^~^~^~

**_Four Months Later –_ **

Dean was running down a dark alley with a nasty demon right on his heels. These days it seemed like every other hunt was one of the friggin’ things. That couldn’t mean anything good. There were days like today where Dean wondered if he should try to find a hunting partner, but then he’d give it some thought and change his mind.

The warehouse he was heading to was only another hundred yards away. If he could make it there, Dean would be safe. The hunter leapt over a pile of garbage cans, almost tripping on a loose lid lying on the ground. He caught himself and ran across the silent street without looking for any cars. Dean could hear the demon taunting him from behind as he crashed through the door and stopped ten feet or so into the room, bending over at the waist, breathing heavily and trying to catch his breath.

He looked up when the demon came running into the room after him, and then stopped almost as if it had crashed into a solid wall. Dean smiled. “Got you, you son of a bitch.” His mouth turned up into a cocky smile.

The demon looked up and saw the devil’s trap painted on the ceiling. It snarled at Dean as the hunter recited an exorcism from memory. Moments later, black smoke purged out of the man’s body and disappeared into the floor. Dean ran forward and caught the guy before he hit the concrete. He was still breathing. Damn it felt good to save someone.

Dean rested the man up against the wall and dialed 9-1-1. He left an anonymous tip and quickly left the building to get the Impala which he had left parked several blocks away. It was late and he wanted to shower up and get some sleep.

~^~^~^~^~^~

It felt good to be clean after tracking that demon down for the last couple of days. Dean always felt so dirty when he hunted one of them. He dried his hair and pulled on a pair of sweats. After he was done in the bathroom, Dean went to the kitchenette to grab a bottle of whiskey. He bypassed the glass; the bottle did just fine. In the back of his mind, Dean knew Bobby would rip him a new one if he found out how much he’d taken to the bottle these last few months, but it was the only way Dean knew how to keep Sam out of his head.

He sat down on the bed, crossing his long legs in front of him at the ankle, and pulled his laptop off the nightstand. Dean figured he could do a little research before calling it a night, see if he could find something else to hunt. Since leaving Bobby’s almost four months ago, Dean had brought down roughly half a dozen nightmarish creatures. Not too shabby, even for himself.

Dean’s cell phone beeped. He looked over and saw that there was a message waiting for him on it. Someone must have called while he was in the shower. Picking it up, he turned it on. There was a missed call from Bobby. Dean lifted an eyebrow. They had just talked a few days ago, so he was surprised the man would be trying to get a hold of him so soon.

He dialed his voicemail and waited. Bobby’s gruff voice came through the phone. “Dean, call me when you get this. I don’t care what time it is. We need to talk.” Nothing else. That was it.

Dean took a long pull from the bottle and set it down on the nightstand. He dialed Bobby’s number and pressed the phone to his ear. He didn’t even get through the second ring before the old hunter answered. “Hey, Bobby. What’s up?”

“How quickly can you make it here?” Bobby didn’t sound like he was in trouble, but the question worried Dean.

“Bobby, what’s going on?”

“Just answer the question, son.”

“Um, well, I’m just outside of Chicago. Maybe eight hours if I leave now.”

“Well, you do that. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?”

“Just get your ass here.” Bobby hung up before Dean could press the issue.

The hunter looked at his phone. What the hell was going on? Bobby hadn’t left him much of a choice so he gathered his things together and got dressed. Dean gave the room a quick once-over before heading out and closing the door behind him. He was tired and it was going to be a long drive, but he’d manage.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Nothing looked amiss when Dean pulled up in front of Bobby’s house at nearly nine o’clock in the morning. The hunter must have had ten cups of coffee in him by now. He was used to long nights, but this was insane. Just to be on the safe side, Dean drew his Colt and approached the house with caution.

Dean was on the second step of the front porch when Bobby opened the door. “Put that thing away, Dean. You won’t be needin’ it.” At Dean’s questioning look, Bobby said, “We’ve got us some company. He got in late last night, not long before I called you.” The old hunter stepped aside to let Dean in.

Dean tucked his gun into the back of his waistband and entered the house, not sure who he was going to see. It felt like the wind was knocked out of him when he saw Sam sitting on the couch.

“Dean.” Sam stood up.

Bobby closed the door and came into the room. He didn’t know what to expect with this little reunion. He wasn’t sure if he should leave the men alone or stand guard, more than likely for Sam’s sake.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Last night Bobby was sitting on the couch enjoying a good read when there was a hesitant knock at the front door. The hunter answered it with the barrel of his gun, but as soon as he opened the door, Bobby recognized the man standing on his porch from the sketch.

Sam had begged Bobby not to turn him away. He said he wanted to do this thing with Dean the right way, not like before. It didn’t take long before Bobby broke down and made the phone call to Dean. After his brief conversation with Dean, Bobby and Sam sat and talked for most of the night. The old hunter now knew the depth of Sam’s feelings for Dean. He also knew how screwed up things had gotten between the two men. Deep down, Bobby knew Dean needed this just as much as Sam. And well, here they were.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Sam was the last person Dean expected to see sitting in Bobby’s study. So many emotions surged through his mind in that one moment. He didn’t know whether to be happy or angry, hug him or punch him in that goddamn beautiful face of his. The hunter was finally getting used to Sam not being in his head, even if it meant throwing a blanket of whiskey over the memories of the man to keep him hidden away.

Dean eyed the man none too kindly. “Sam…” Well, it was a start. To what, Dean wasn’t sure. He saw Sam look over at Bobby for a second and then he heard Bobby grumble something about having some errands to run and to make sure his house was still standing when he got back. The front door opened and closed behind Dean a moment later and the two men were left alone.

The anger won out in Dean. “Why did you come here? You said you were done with this. I’m just now getting back on my feet and now you decide to show up?” Dean crossed his arms and stood there, waiting for Sam’s explanation.

The man took a couple of steps toward Dean, but stopped when he saw the hunter take a step back. He clenched his jaw, not knowing where to begin. Sam knew this wasn’t going to be easy. “Since you left-”

“You mean since you tossed my ass out,” Dean said numbly.

“Would you listen to me, please. I’m trying here. This isn’t easy,” Sam pleaded.

Dean backed up and leaned against the wall. “Fine. Say what you need to say. I don’t see how it’s going to help, but if it makes you feel better, take a shot.” The hunter felt a little regret at his words when he saw Sam’s face fall.

That hurt, but Sam supposed he deserved it. He chewed his bottom lip and swept his bangs out of his face before he started again. “Since we, um, _parted ways_ , I’ve been doing a lot of thinking…about us. God, this is so hard.” Sam pressed his lips together in a fine line and looked up at the ceiling before dropping his eyes to Dean again. “So I know Hoggle talked to you. You know I’m a little more than fucked up; I’ve gotten worse in the last few years. I’ve become something I never wanted to be.” He sighed, trying to think of how to convey his emotions to the man in front of him. “I’m learning all of this on the fly. I’ve never had something like this, Dean…so forgive me if I’ve gone about this whole thing all wrong.”

Sam sat down on the arm of the couch. He picked at the hem of his shirt. Dean noticed he was wearing the same clothes he had seen him in that first night outside his bedroom window, blue jeans, white shirt, and black overcoat.

“Wasn’t any of it good for you?” Sam asked hesitantly. “I mean, I thought you liked certain things…at least you seemed to enjoy those parts.” He sat still, waiting for Dean’s response.

Dean dropped his arms. Sam sounded like a small child. He smoothed a hand over his mouth before speaking. The hunter didn’t answer Sam’s inquiry, but had his own question. “Haven’t you ever had a relationship? What about before you were crowned?”

Sam shook his head no. His wide, almost innocent eyes, stared up at Dean from his perch on the couch. They were begging forgiveness.

Dean was melting where he stood. The person in front of him was so far removed from the “Goblin King” that he was practically an entirely different person. The cold King wasn’t there, but neither was the confident lover. Sam was still broken and was looking for the one thing that could put him back together again. And Dean knew what (or rather who) that was. He closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the wall. Could he start this all over again?

Dean stood up from the wall and crossed the room to sit down on the couch. He left some space between himself and Sam. “This is just so…weird. I _know_ you’re hundreds, if not thousands, of years older than me, and here I am, a baby at twenty-seven, trying to explain how a relationship should work to you. And you know what? I’m definitely not the right person to ask. I’ve never been with someone for more than a night or two. Relationships just don’t happen in my line of work.” Dean gave a small smile, not wanting Sam to automatically think he was turning him away.

“Look, Sam. I know there’s something between the two of us. I’d love to have it, but I have a life here. I can’t just up and leave. And apparently, you can’t just up and leave the Labyrinth either. I just don’t see how it’s gonna work out. I know it’s not what you wanna hear, but it’s the reality of it.”

“What if I told you I could stay, not permanently, but long enough? Hoggle’s agreed to watch over things when I’m not there. Surprisingly, he’s not half bad.” It was the first time Dean saw Sam smile since he walked in the door. “We can start over, do this right. We can take it slow and you can teach me.

“I’ve been trying, Dean. You should see the Labyrinth. It’s almost like it was before I went all darkside. It’s like spring. There is no more darkness there. Hell, even the Bog is a beautiful freshwater pond now…with fish in it. And it’s all because of you.” Sam slid off the arm of the couch and sat down on the cushion beside Dean. He tentatively placed a hand on Dean’s thigh. Sam needed to touch the man again, even if just a little.

Heat surged through Dean’s leg at the touch. His first instinct was to move away, but he didn’t. He didn’t because he wanted this, just as much as Sam did. After four months of drowning himself in whiskey to try to rid himself of the memories, and not being able to, he knew he was done for. The man Dean knew and loved from the dreams was showing himself again. Sam was trying. Maybe what that soothsayer had predicted all those years ago was finally coming to pass; Sam was going to prove himself worthy of his crown, but with Dean by his side.

Instead of pulling away, Dean moved closer to Sam. “Do you really think we can make this work?” He threaded his fingers through Sam’s on his leg.

“I’d like to think we can. My kingdom is more than happy to share me with you if it means they can live in a better place.” Sam chanced a small laugh.

A thought occurred to Dean, and it wasn’t a very good one. He frowned and looked down at their interlaced fingers as he rubbed Sam’s hand with his thumb.

Sam noticed something was worrying Dean. “What’s wrong? What is it, Dean?” He watched the man’s expression when he looked back up at him; it was pensive.

Before the quiet stretched for too long, Dean said, “Sam, you do realize I’m only human. I’ve got maybe fifty or sixty years left if I’m lucky.”

That’s when Sam flashed a wide, dimpled smile. “No, Dean. Don’t worry about that. Once you’re mine, things will change. Nothing noticeable, but you won’t have to worry about growing old. I have an eternity in front of me and I’d like to spend it with you.”

Dean blinked. Was Sam saying he was going to be immortal? Holy shit. “Well, why didn’t you say that before? Come here.” The hunter grinned. He pulled his hand out from Sam’s and wrapped it around the nape of Sam’s neck, drawing him in for a slow, passionate kiss.

When they pulled apart, Dean rested his forehead against Sam’s. “I meant what I said that day. I love you, Sam. I think I’ve loved you since the first dream you decided to sneak into.” The hunter smiled and laughed at the memory. It was a good one, too. “You think we can go make one of those dreams real? I mean, we really haven’t touched, have we?”

Sam closed his eyes. Was this really happening? Was Dean finally saying yes? He was trembling and swallowed thickly as a tear slid down his cheek.

Dean sat up when he noticed Sam shaking. “Oh, hey. Don’t do that.” He thumbed the tear off Sam’s face. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.” He stood up and held a hand out to Sam.

Sam looked up at Dean. The man was beyond words. He was giving Sam another chance. Sam took the proffered hand and allowed himself to be led upstairs.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Once they were in the room, it wasn’t long before they had stripped each other of their clothing. They both lay on the bed now, Dean holding Sam close; Sam’s head rested on the hunter’s chest. Dean rubbed his thumb soothingly along Sam’s shoulder and the man relaxed into him more and more as the minutes went by. Sam was becoming braver with his touches and began to press kisses to Dean’s chest.

Everything they’d ever done before was only in their minds. This was the first time Sam and Dean truly touched each other. And both wanted to explore the newness of it.

Sam's hesitancy piqued Dean's curiosity and he had to ask. “Sam?”

“Yeah, Dean?” Sam stopped and hazel eyes peered up from where he was pressing warm lips to Dean's skin.

“You’re, uh, you're not a...” Dean trailed off, a soft smile lifting one corner of his mouth.

Sam sat up, then, and looked down at Dean, brow furrowed. The blankets fell and pooled at his waist, revealing his muscled frame. “What? I'm not a what?"

"A virgin," Dean replied.

"Why would you ask that?” Sam's eyes remained fixed on Dean's as he trailed his fingertips over Dean's abdomen setting Dean's flesh aflame with goosebumps.

Dean squirmed under the ticklish sensation. “Well, you said you were never in a relationship before. But I’m guessing you’re not, not with the experience you seemed to have in our dreams.”

Sam smiled at that, deep dimples piercing his cheeks. “Do you seriously, for one minute, think I’d be this old and not have had sex? You don’t want to go there, trust me. I’ve never been in love before, that’s all. Everything else, well, let’s just say we’ll both benefit from the things I know and leave it at that.”

Dean's grin turned into a full-fledged smile. “Well, why don’t you show me some new tricks then. I’m not even close to being a virgin, but I’ve never been with a man, so this is gonna be a whole new experience for me. And you better make it good if you want me to keep coming back for more.” He waggled an eyebrow teasingly at Sam.

At that, Sam pulled the blankets off Dean and threw them to the floor. “How about we finish what we started in the ballroom?” Sam snapped his fingers and suddenly they were back where they were all those months ago. “Do you like this? I can change it if you want.”

Dean looked around. This was going to be interesting, this relationship with Sam. “You know, I like this, but how about your bed. Those down comforters… They’re nice and soft.” He grinned as he said the words knowing Sam didn’t know about his side trip in the castle. “I bet they’re even more comfortable with you there.”

Sam’s expression became puzzled. “When…?”

“Hell, do you think I’d just leave without checking out the bedroom?” Dean winked, causing a burst of laughter to escape from Sam’s lips.

“Well, okay then,” Sam said. And with another snap of his fingers they were in Sam’s bed. Candles lit the room with a soft glow. “Is this better?”

“Much,” Dean replied. “Now kiss me, Your Majesty, and let’s get this show on the road.” He spread himself out on the bed, completely exposing himself to Sam’s hungry eyes.

Sam crawled up over Dean and covered the man’s mouth with his own. The kiss was different this time now that he knew Dean was his. He took his time and was gentle in his touches. He pushed his tongue into the hot heat of Dean’s mouth, mapped its recesses and claimed its treasures.

Sam rocked down into Dean’s body and their cocks slid together. Both let out shameless moans as they kissed. “I need you, Dean,” Sam said as he broke away, tugging at Dean’s bottom lip between his teeth. He sat up and traced long lines along Dean’s torso with his fingers, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

Their eyes met, crystalline green to jeweled hazel, and Dean nodded.

“You’re absolutely sure about this?” Sam asked. He didn’t want Dean to have any regrets.

Dean reached down for Sam’s hand and brought it up to his mouth. He sucked greedily on the man’s fingers, wetting them thoroughly.

Sam got the idea and the fact that Dean was doing what he was made Sam want to bury himself inside Dean all that much sooner. “Oh, god, Dean.” Sam stroked himself just to relieve some of the ache. “You’re so fucking hot. I’ve been wanting this for so long.”

Pulling his fingers from Dean’s mouth, Sam scooted back down the bed. He grasped Dean’s weeping cock and stroked him as he circled Dean’s tight hole with a finger. Without further warning, he pushed the digit up into Dean’s heat.

“Ohh…fuck.” Dean moaned as his body arched off the bed. Yeah, dreams were different than reality. Dean _felt_ things just a little bit more here and the burn and stretch overwhelmed him for a moment, but soon he found himself rocking into it as the pain faded away and became pleasure.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked, still stretching and thrusting his finger in and out of Dean’s virgin-tight ring of muscle. At Dean’s nod, he gently pressed the tip of a second finger into him. Sam continued to stroke Dean’s cock, thumbing over the head every now and then, trying to keep the man’s mind off the pain.

Dean breathed through the sensation. He knew it would be only a matter of moments before it started to feel good. It was certainly a new feeling as Sam scissored his fingers in and out of him, stretching him open. Dean had no idea how Sam was going to fit up there, but he wouldn’t let himself worry. Sam was driving that bus.

Suddenly, Sam did something inside Dean that made his world explode like the Fourth of July. “Fuck, Sam!” Dean jolted up from the mattress, shocked. “Do that again,” he moaned out through heavy pants. And again it happened. The hunter felt like he could come from whatever that was alone. While Dean was in the middle of that high, he felt Sam push a third finger into him. It wasn’t as bad as the first and second, but he didn’t think he’d be able to stretch much farther.

Sam watched Dean as he took in all of the new sensations. It was thing to behold. Sam ached to take Dean, but knew he’d have to take his time and prepare the man just right. And even with enough prep, it was still going to hurt like a bitch. Sam continued to stretch Dean with his fingers until Dean started to beg.

“Sam, enough. Fuck me already. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” He rolled down onto Sam’s fingers as they plunged deep inside him. They hit that spot again and Dean moaned. “Jesus Christ!” He twisted on the bed, but he didn’t get far because Sam had released his cock and held him in place with his free hand.

Finally, Sam slipped his fingers free. He produced a tube of lube from somewhere and Dean lifted a brow. “Hey, I’ve learned to rely on some things from where you come from. I’m not stupid, you know,” Sam said with a smirk.

Sam flipped the top open on the lube and squeezed a small amount of the cool liquid into his hand. He sighed as he grasped his weeping cock and slid his hand up and down its length, slicking it. A shiver passed through his body in anticipation of claiming Dean.

He looked down at Dean and their eyes connected. A silent question passed between them and Dean nodded. Sam lifted Dean’s legs and rested the man’s ankles on his shoulders. This position lifted Dean’s waist up from the bed as well. Sam rubbed the blunt tip of his aching flesh around Dean’s hole and teased a little. He wanted Dean to relax as much as possible before taking him.

“Do it, Sam. Please…” Dean squirmed a little, but couldn’t get anywhere, not in the position Sam had him in. He felt Sam _right there_. And then suddenly, the man was pushing in, breaching him. “Fuck! Wait! Oh, god!” The burn and stretch was intense and Dean’s muscles involuntarily clamped down tight.

“Breathe, Dean.” Sam ceased all movement until Dean’s body could adjust. “It’s okay. Take your time. We don’t need to rush this.” He reached down and stroked Dean’s now semi-flaccid member. “Just breathe.”

When Sam felt the man relaxing under him, he pushed another inch into the man and gave him a moment. He did this until he was completely buried up to the balls in the man’s tight, slick, heat. Sam groaned at the sheer torture of not being able to move. But he could do this for Dean.

Dean continued to breathe through the sensations. It wasn’t just the stretch and burn any longer, but now there was just the general feeling of fullness. He knew Sam was all the way in by now. Dean didn’t want to think of how the man fit _that_ all the way into him, but hell, it was starting to feel good. “Okay, Sam. I think I’m good.”

Sam’s hips began to move. He started off with small, gentle movements, but with every stroke, he pulled farther out and slammed forward again. Dean couldn’t help the noises escaping his lips. He never thought this could feel so good.

After a minute or two, Sam picked up the pace and his thrusts became more driven. Bare skin slapped against bare skin. Moans were mingled in the air. Dean’s fingers gripped the comforter below him as Sam hit that _place_ again. And then Sam’s hand was clamped around him, stroking in rhythm with his thrusts. The fingers of his other hand dug bruisingly into Dean’s thigh and he held him there.

Dean wasn’t going to be able to hold off for long, as a matter of fact… “Oh, fuck, Sam!” The hunter’s body tensed as he came, spilling his seed over Sam’s hand and up his own chest. Dean’s muscles tightened around Sam and the man groaned.

A few more deep thrusts and Sam came hard, spilling his slick heat into the depths of his lover. He stayed buried inside the man until he was no longer pulsing, and then pulled out with a heavy sigh and collapsed next to Dean. “Fuck that was good,” he said with a smile as he turned onto his side so he could lean over and kiss Dean again.

When they separated, Sam asked, “Y’okay?”

Dean felt the bed shift as Sam leaned over to get something. A second later, he felt the man cleaning the cooling puddle of semen off his chest with a soft piece of cloth. “Yeah, better than ever,” Dean replied tiredly before rolling over to his stomach and fluffing the pillow under his head. He hadn’t slept in more than twenty-four hours and he was shot.

Sam tossed the material to the floor beside the bed. “Good,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “’Cause there’s gonna be a lot more where that came from. And you’re gonna have to return the favor once in a while. This isn’t a one-man show, you know.” He reached over and let his fingers trail down the long, muscular lines of Dean’s back, stopping just before the swell of the man’s ass. He noticed several scars crisscrossing the bronzed flesh, evidence of Dean’s perilous occupation. Sam wanted to run his tongue over those pale lines, learn their stories, but knew the man needed to sleep.

Dean grinned at the prospect of taking Sam in that fashion. The thought had never really occurred to him, even though it probably should have. “I think that’s very doable.” He shifted onto his side, feeling his cock twitch at the thought, but he had to suppress the reaction for now. He’d like nothing more than to jump Sam’s bones and fuck the living crap out of the man right now, but Dean needed at least a good, solid four hours of sleep to re-energize. He slipped a leg between Sam’s, tucking in as close as he could; they fit perfectly together. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Dean.” Sam leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to the man’s lips. “Now get some sleep. We’ll need our rest if we’re going to keep this up.”

~^~^~^~^~^~

“Sam,” Dean said sleepily a few minutes later. Somehow he was still awake.

“Yeah, Dean?” Sam was nowhere near falling asleep. His mind was awhirl with everything that had happened over the last few hours. When he went to Bobby’s the night before, Sam didn’t think he’d had a snowball’s chance in hell with Dean, but he had had to try. If it hadn’t worked, it scared Sam to even think of what his future would have held.

“Just because you’re King, don’t ever get any ideas about calling me your Queen.” Dean bit back a snicker.

Sam lifted his head from the pillow and looked over at Dean. He could see the smile in the man’s eyes. A slow grin spread on Sam’s face, and then he rolled back on the bed laughing. “Never,” he said when he could catch his breath. Sam turned and wrapped an arm tightly around his lover. He pressed a kiss to the side of Dean’s jaw before nuzzling into the crook of the hunter’s neck and closing his eyes.

Yeah, now Sam could say he was happy.

**_The End_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> Feel free to leave comments. I'd love to know your thoughts...
> 
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> **NEW** I've added my e-mail to my profile. If anyone should like to contact me for anything, please feel free to drop me a line :)


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